


Rollercoaster (fka Turning Back to Move on)

by JamieRB



Category: Fleabag (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Post-Canon, Romance, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:49:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 35,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26914672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieRB/pseuds/JamieRB
Summary: I've had this thought in my head since watching FB the first time that they wouldn't be able to stay away from each other.  That their addictive personalities would continue to push them back together.  I'm not sure that they end up together in the long run but I don't think their story is over.
Relationships: Fleabag & Priest (Fleabag), Fleabag/Priest (Fleabag)
Comments: 40
Kudos: 122





	1. Six Weeks

**Author's Note:**

> I am not a writer. I'm an accountant - type A and left-brained. I've never written anything like this before, so I welcome ANY feedback you have. Also, I'm American, so words and phrases may be a little different than typical British characters’. I can't promise a happy ending, but I guarantee some smut! Thanks to LSS and Wavecloud19 for the inspo! Thanks to Sarah and Ellen for proof-reading. And, biggest thank you to PWB for being the queen she is and giving us these wonderful characters!

It’s been six weeks. Six weeks since the wedding and the bus stop. Six weeks since she said, “I fucking love you.” Six weeks since he said goodbye and she sent a fox after him. You’d think it’s been six weeks of crying, but she’s not like other people. She wants to cry but she can’t. Sure, she’s sulked. She’s been sad. But she hasn’t cried since the bus stop. If she really thought about it, she’d say she hasn’t cried because she’s more grateful than sorrowful. She’s grateful that she got even one night with him. Grateful that he made her feel such love. Grateful that he helped to open her heart again, enough so that she might just try a real relationship someday. Of course, not just yet. She’s giving herself time. She’s letting herself grieve what was and what can’t be. 

She’s re-lived all their conversations too many times to count. She constantly pictures his face, looking at her, laughing with her, and even sometimes when he would catch her disappearing. She’s not disappearing anymore - because, without him to catch her, what would be the point? She’s trying to be fully present in her life, at least when she’s outside her flat. 

She’s re-lived the conversation at the bus stop so many times. Was there something she could have said to make him change his mind? But then, she thinks, no, that’s too much for her to bear. That he would leave the priesthood for her, especially after only one night. She tries to understand and allow him the importance of his faith.

Mostly, though, she just re-lives that night. That one night together at her flat. Most days she has a wank before going to the café and then again before bed. She even ordered another vibrator so one is always charged and ready. Who could blame her? It wasn’t just sex, not just making love (ew, she hates that phrase). It was more. It was sex on fire. Yet it was emotional and tender in between the moments of fever and rush. This is what she is most grateful for, that she will have the memory of that night forever.

She hasn’t tried to find him or accidentally run into him. She respects his wishes that she stay away from the church. She’s avoided the entire block where the church is. But she’s always thinking of him. If she isn’t re-visiting their conversations or remembering their one night together in painstaking detail, she is fantasizing about running into him. Hours of her day are spent thinking about coming across him at the bus stop or out running errands. Just catching him off guard on a walk sometime so that he doesn’t feel like she’s stalking him. She plays out what they’d say to each other and how she would somehow talk him into spending some time with her. She thinks about making him laugh, feeling the comfort of their easy conversations. And, of course, she always imagines that they end up back at hers. It’s her fantasy after all.

Many mornings, when she is just waking up and she misses him the most, she imagines walking hand in hand with him. Bringing him home and slowly kissing him till she can’t see straight then leisurely undressing each other. Making love (maybe not so ew) while never losing eye contact. Yes, that’s the first wank of the day. But at night, after a long day at the café and coming home to takeaway and wine, her fantasies are usually more urgent. And wicked.

She likes to think how she wouldn’t be able to get inside the door before mauling him with her mouth. Kissing him, devouring his mouth, nibbling on his earlobe and sucking her way down his neck. Her hands in his hair, then down his back, then fidgeting with the buttons of his shirt to get at his skin. She fantasizes that he pushes her to the couch and straddles her legs while he returns the favor -- messing her hair, kissing her mouth, sucking her neck, removing her shirt. By this time, in her head, things are moving pretty fast, so the details aren’t usually clear on when and how they remove the rest of their clothes. She hurries to the important bits – sometimes he’s worshipping her clit with his mouth, licking and sucking till she’s over the edge. Sometimes she pictures him driving his cock into her, his weight on top of her and his head nuzzling into her the crook of her neck. Or sometimes she thinks about him fucking her hard from behind, slamming into her while his balls slap her. Yeah, that’s a particular favorite.

So, yeah, all in all, she’s keeping herself distracted from her heartache. She's doing ok. She wouldn’t say she’s great, but she is trying not to wallow. No, it hasn’t passed, but she’s giving herself time.

Still, it’s a shock, that on a random Tuesday evening six weeks after the bus stop - when she’s not expecting anyone and she’s sitting on her couch watching shit TV in her joggers and tank - that her buzzer goes and she hears her priest breathily whisper/shout through the door “Hey, you alone in there?”


	2. Whiskey Visits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One word: smut!!!

She turns the TV off and looks at the clock. 10pm. She waits and just listens for a beat. He knocks -- loudly. She doesn't know what to do. She stands and looks around the room then runs her hands down her body, hoping that both are presentable. He bangs on the door - three loud knocks that knock her out of her thoughts. She runs to the door, turns the lock and pulls it open.

There is no time to look at him, leaning on the doorframe gazing into his eyes. Nope. He leans over a little bit, his head about the height of her stomach and he looks up at her while he stumbles in. The next thing she knows, his arms are around her back, with his head awkwardly just below her tits. Does she smell whiskey? With one foot, she closes the door behind him and puts a hand in his hair to look at his face. Yup, he's drunk. She pushes him to a standing position and realizes that neither of them have said anything.

She takes a step back as he pulls himself together and regains his balance. Softly, she says "No." He pulls a face and says "uh, no?" She finds her voice and says "No, I'm not alone." Beat. He wipes one hand down his face, exhales, then says "Uhhhhh, shit, fuck. I'm sorry." She starts to walk into the flat as she smirks at him and says "I just mean, that you're here."

She sits on the couch and he walks slowly into the flat. "Bahhh, hah, yeah, I guess I am," he says as he looks around. "Got anything to drink?" he asks. She lifts her wine glass to show him but says nothing, just watching him and trying to figure out what is happening. She is torn between jumping up and hugging him or slapping him and kicking him out. Not that she wants him to leave, but she can see it's the alcohol that's brought him here and she fears what that means for her fragile heart.

She stands and walks to the kitchen, keeping a wide berth on her way. She gets a glass and pours him water from the tap. She hands it to him and returns to the couch. "Ah, yeah, thanks," he says. "Cheers," as he tips his glass to her then gulps the entire drink down. He sets the glass on the counter and half stumbles to the couch next to her.

"So," she says quietly. "So," he repeats. He grabs at her hands in her lap, rubbing his thumbs over her fingers. At first she leans away from him and the smell of whiskey, but then he takes a deep breath and looks up at her under his lashes. She repeats his deep breath and leans in closer. He leans in further yet, so that their foreheads are touching. 

"I, uh, I miss you," he says. She looks at him and says "I, uh, I, uh, yeah." He leans back a little to look in her eyes and brings one of his hands up to her cheek, rubbing his thumb there, his fingers on her neck. Thrilled, she immediately feels a telling rush of wetness between her legs. She looks down at her hands still in her lap, entwined with one of his and she is worried. Anxious even. She felt like she was on the right track, doing what he asked--and now here he is. Stumbling in, barely speaking, but making her wet with the slightest brush of his hand.

He scoots closer to her, moving his other hand to her other cheek. She looks back into his eyes. Before she can think, his mouth is on hers. She doesn't stop him, but doesn't open her mouth. His lips are so soft. The kiss is tender. She is confused, but it only takes a moment. One moment to be sure that she wants him. She opens her mouth, finding his tongue, and moves her hands to his hair. She is soaring. He tastes of whiskey and memories. She leans in closer and he softly moans. One tiny thought crosses her mind - is he going to regret this and break her heart again? But then his hands move down her back and pull her in closer so that they are chest to chest - and all she can think is - he's here. He's here and he's mine.

His arms are around her. He kisses down her neck, she tips her head back, her hands running down his arms. "Mmmm" she moans. Oh those arms, oh that mouth! He brings his mouth back to hers, his tongue probing. He slowly starts pushing her back as he continues kissing her and she lies back on the sofa. “I want...” he utters. They both move together, bringing their legs up. She relishes his weight on top of her. He's sucking on her neck, hands desperately moving down her sides. She brings her hands back to his hair, spreading her legs to surround his hips, tipping her pelvis into his. He moans and grabs the strap of her tank, moving his mouth down to kiss her breast. “Uh, you taste, uh,” he says breathily as he continues kissing and grazing her tits with his mouth. “Coconut, ahhh,” he completes his thought. 

As he begins sucking on her nipple, she moans and runs her hands down his back to his ass. She grabs both cheeks in her hands and pushes him down, again tipping her hips up. She can feel how hard he is. “Fuck,” she says, “fuck.” She starts moving frantically, moving her hands up to his waist, grabbing the bottom of his shirt and yanking up. He leans up on his elbow, removing his mouth from her breast, and throws the shirt on the floor. He leans down to kiss her deeply then moves back to her tits, this time sucking on her other nipple and kneading her other with his hand. “Oh my God,” she moans.

She runs her hands up and down his smooth back while throwing her head back and once again tipping her hips up. She reaches between them to his belt. As she fumbles, he kisses his way up her breast back to her neck and mouth.

Suddenly he pushes back to his knees. He quickly undoes his belt and opens his jeans, sloppily pushing them halfway down his legs. She puts her arms over her head and watches as he strokes a hand down his cock. She can’t help but moan softly watching him, taking in his eyes staring at her with want. His arms, his chest, his hand on his considerable cock, all of it making her hungry for him. Then he's frantic, pulling down her joggers to her ankles. She shakes one foot free from the bottom and bends her knees as he once again takes his cock in his hand and crawls back on top of her. She tips her hips up and they lock eyes. "Yes," she says. Not that he asked, but HELL YES.

He slows to push his cock into her, and breathes out as he realizes how wet she is. “Fuck,” he says, stretching the word out as he slowly enters her. He feels so good, she can't stay still. She grabs his head and kisses him deeply while playing with his hair. Then he begins to move. Fleetingly, she thinks of all the fantasies she’s had over the last six weeks and she can’t believe this is happening. She tips up, he pushes in, and they find a rhythm. She nibbles on his earlobe while he breathes into the crook of her neck. She moans in his ear and digs her nails into his back. “Oh God, Jesus, oh,” he utters followed by her name. “Father,” she says teasily. Then, realizing that he's moving faster, she remembers his inebriated state. She pulls away from his ear, and decides to make sure she gets her turn too. 

She pushes on his chest and then his hip, slowly pulling her hips away. He looks up at her to determine what is happening and understands. They move to the floor, where she straddles on top of him. Guiding his cock with her hand, she pushes on to him and they both moan. He grabs her hips and they start moving again. He excitedly moves his hands up to her breasts and she grabs his shoulders, turned on by the feel of his muscles. He slowly moves his hands down, one back to her hip and the other to her clit. She puts a hand on top of his and reminds him what she likes. Once his thumb starts circling her clit, she sighs and softly says “yes.” Sighing again, she says, “yes, Father, right there.” She throws off her tank then grabs her tits and squeezes her nipples. When he sees this, he lets out a series of expletives and speeds up his pace. She looks at him and smiles, squeezing her tits and continuing to slam into him. She throws her head back as her orgasm grips her. The quivering and tightness of her orgasm put him over the edge. He grabs her hips with both hands as he comes, sighing her name. 

When their breath starts to slow, she leans over onto his chest and he wraps his arms around her. Again, he says, "I miss you," and she replies "me too." She rolls over and climbs off of him to grab a pillow and a blanket from the sofa for them. She removes the rest of his jeans, shoes and socks. He's finally naked and she smiles at this. As she snuggles up to him, she kicks off the rest of her joggers. He exhales deeply and rolls on his side, encasing her in his arms. Then promptly falls asleep.


	3. The Bible

Lying in his arms, she stares at him in awe. She softly runs her forefinger down his forehead to the tip of his nose, then skims her thumb across his bottom lip. She grips the back of his neck with her hand and strokes his cheek with her thumb, then softly whispers “I love you.” 

She lies like this for a long while, just watching him sleep. She wills herself not to fall asleep, afraid he will wake and sneak off. But with the combination of the wine and lateness of the hour, she can’t help but feel drowsy. She tells herself to sleep lightly, so she is sure to awake when he does. Finally she snuggles further into his arms and succumbs. 

She wakes up alone. It’s dark, she’s freezing on the hard floor. She reaches out but only feels a space where his body was. She fumbles for her phone, somewhere on the sofa. 6 am. She assesses the flat - no shoes, no jeans, no shirt. No Priest. She gets up and walks to the front door to peek outside, just in case she catches him. No luck. She locks the door and gives the flat a once over - maybe he’s left a note. She finds nothing. And, of course, she doesn’t have his phone number. She sighs, crawling into her bed in a fruitless attempt to sleep. Eyes open or shut, she only sees him.

**************

It’s a busy Chatty Wednesday at the cafe and thankfully she doesn’t have time for heartache. When she arrives home that evening, she finally has time to think about what happened. She picks up the blanket and pillow, still on the floor, and hugs them to her as she sits on the sofa. What did his visit mean, she wonders. Did something happen that caused him to break his promise to stay away? Should she be worried for him? Then, she changes her mind and thinks - he can’t just show up like that and not talk to her ever again. She looks at her phone and doesn’t see any missed calls or texts from unknown numbers. Is the church ban still in effect? She’s so confused. She pulls her laptop out and googles St. Ethelred’s, finding their webpage. There is a tiny picture of him but the only phone number is to the church. Of course he wouldn’t post his personal phone number on their website, she laughs. 

Over the next few days with no word from him, she starts to feel angry. She feels used. Is she just to accept him showing up out of nowhere after six weeks without communication? Six long weeks where she followed the rules! She re-plays the evening in her head over and over again, each time thinking something different. She doesn’t know him to be cruel. Why is he avoiding her after what happened? Is he just as miserable as her? Does he still love her? If only he would show up at the cafe or at her flat and explain himself. Isn’t he thinking about her too?

Finally on Sunday, when the cafe is closed, she dares a walk to the church. It’s a gorgeous day, but hot as hell. She’s spent most of it working on paperwork for the cafe. When she finishes her menus and food orders, she stalks her way to the church yard. She stays out of sight, close to the fence, in case she needs to escape quickly. The doors are closed and no one is around. She loiters for a few minutes then gives up and walks home.

When she gets home, she opens the bottle of bourbon she keeps for particularly hard days. She pours two fingers and takes the glass to her bed. In the nightstand drawer, she pulls out the bible he gave her at the fete. She smells it and pages through it. She pores through all her memories of him, trying not to be angry. She knows her Priest, she knows he wouldn’t use her, even if she feels used. She imagines him in his church, alone and feeling guilty. If only he would talk to her, tell her why he came and how he feels now. He knows how to find her. And if he is afraid to see her, afraid of breaking his vows again, her phone number isn’t hard to find. The cafe has a Facebook page. Holding the bible to her chest, she gets an idea to get his attention. 

She flips to one of the passages that he had marked for her - one of her favorites from Peter. 

“Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.”

She takes a sip of her bourbon and carefully tears the page out of the book. She looks up and says, “Sorry, but I need to talk to him” with a wave of her hand. She laughs at herself. Before she loses her nerve, she stuffs the page in an envelope and seals it shut. Opening her laptop, she pulls up the page for St. Ethelred’s that she looked at a few days ago and scribbles his name and the church address. 

She slugs back the rest of her bourbon then rummages through her desk for a stamp. Once postmarked, she sits at the kitchen table staring at it for a minute. She rationalizes that she’s given him five days. Five days where she’s willed him to reach out to her. Where she’s gone over the night in her head, wondering if she should have been stronger for both of them and made him leave. Or, maybe, she should have made him talk to her more. She reminds herself that she doesn’t believe in God and has no reason to feel guilty but she also respects his faith and vows. She knows she can help him through whatever he is feeling. How she can help him - she doesn’t know - but she is desperate to do something. And with that, she gets up and runs the letter to the mailbox.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if anyone is offended by Flea's desecration of the Bible!


	4. Moving Out

The week passes in the usual blur with no word from her Priest. When Saturday comes, she gets up early to meet Claire. The cafe is closed for the day so she can help Claire pack up her and Martin’s townhouse before it’s put up for sale.

Martin has already moved out and has been threatened to stay away. It’s an exhausting day helping to pack boxes, while Claire directs potential buyers for some furniture and decorations. Claire is enjoying herself through all the commotion. In all the upheaval, she manages to snag back Claire’s favorite jumper. She also nicks a gorgeous Prada skirt with the tags still attached. Klare hasn’t accompanied Claire back to London today - she wanted to keep this part of her life separate from their relationship. He will be meeting Claire tomorrow evening, once the house is emptied. They plan to stay in London for some big work meeting on Monday. After that, she doesn’t know when she will see her sister again. Of course, with the news of her sister and her new beau in town, they’ve been invited round to Dad’s for dinner tomorrow evening.

At the end of the day, she and Claire walk back to her flat, stopping at the cafe briefly to feed Hillary and Stephanie. While there, Claire asks how the cafe is faring. She tells her sister about the women’s business owners group that she’s joined and how the connections have brought her more catering jobs. She’s hired on full-time help, a young grad student named Meg, and she’s really happy with how it’s going. Claire smiles and says “That’s great. I’m so happy for you.” She doesn’t know what to say--now that Claire is finally opening up a little bit, she’s leaving for another country.

They grab takeaway and eat back at her flat, where Claire gossips about Klare and work. Claire has only been in town once since the wedding. She came in on a Friday a few weeks after to formally file for divorce and meet with Martin to give him the terms of the agreement. Afterward, Claire met her for dinner back at her flat. Claire couldn't stay at home since Martin had yet to vacate. They polished off 2 bottles of wine and had a relaxing night that included a rousing bitchfest about Martin and Godmother.

When they were crawling into bed that night, Claire saw mum’s statue on the nightstand and inquired why it was still in her possession. So, in her drunken state, she finally felt open enough to tell her sister all about the Priest. She filled her in on everything from before the wedding through to the bus stop. Claire surprised her with a tight hug and attempted a Claire style pep talk - telling her that maybe he just needs time to sort things out. This made her feel better because she was worried that Claire might hate her Priest. Claire said, “I can see you, uh, feel strongly for him, but I think you’re doing the right thing by following his request to stay away. I hope he changes his mind,” then bluntly adds “but don’t wait around forever.” In the weeks since then, Claire would occasionally ask if she heard from him when they would text.

At the end of packing day, after their stop at the cafe, they grab takeaway again and come back to the flat. After eating, they relax on the couch with their wine and the conversation finally comes around to the Priest. She tries to remain stoic as she relays to her sister the story of the drunken visit from him and then her mailing the page from the bible. Her eyes well slightly when Claire asks if she’s heard from him. Claire echoes her confusion as to why he would just show up but then leave without a word. Claire sighs and says, “What an arsehole he is, showing up drunk and messing with your head.” This prompts her to defend her Priest because he’s probably just as lonely and confused as she is. “But, I think I understand why he hasn’t gotten in touch,” she argues. “He certainly feels guilty for breaking his vows again. That has to be why he stays away. I’m worried that something happened and that’s why he was so drunk and showed up here,” she contemplates. Claire agrees about his probable guilt but contends, “I think maybe now is the time for you to move on. I thought initially he might come round, but I don’t know. Either way, he’s an arsehole for hurting you.” Then Claire hugs her and they head to bed.

**************  
Sunday morning, she and Claire walk back to the townhouse to oversee the last items get packed up and ready to be hauled to Finland by movers. Leaving Claire inside giving orders, she steps outside for a smoke break just as Martin stumbles up the steps.

“What do you want?” she sneers. “I know for a fact that she told you to stay away.”

“Fuck off,” he says. “I’m here to see my wife before she flees the country,” he slurs, a little spittle on his bottom lip that makes her cringe. She moves in front of the open door to try to block him from entering. “Oh,” he rants, “that’s how it’s going to be now? Are you finally on her good side? Is that it? And I bet you don’t want any competition, do you?”

“Hah!” she jeers, “you’re hardly competition. She’s divorcing you and leaving London just to get away from you!”

“Well,” he pokes, “at least I’ll get alimony from her. I bet you won’t even garner regular phone calls. And once again, you’ll be all alone.” She stumps out her cigarette and pokes him in the chest with her fingers. “Just GET OUT,” she warns. “She doesn’t want to see you and I will not let you near her.” Just then Clarie comes to the door. When she sees Martin, she sighs and says, “What do you want? I told you not to come.”

Martin freezes, lost in thought starting at Claire, so again she says, “GET OUT. I told you that she did not want to see you!” He puts his hands up in surrender and stumbles back down the steps to the sidewalk. Claire says, “Goodbye Martin.” Martin nods at Claire, then turns his attention to her to sneer and say “Fuck you.”

**************

Later that evening at Dad’s, she excuses herself to the garden for a cigarette. Dinner was the usual passive aggressive bullshit from Godmother, but she chose to concentrate on her sister. Claire beamed upon Klare’s arrival and despite their worries, Godmother seemed genuinely interested in Klare, asking questions about Finland and even listening to the answers.

As she sits outside alone, she thinks about what Martin said at Claire’s earlier. She doesn’t want Claire to go to Finland but she certainly doesn’t begrudge her happiness. At this, she wonders about her own happiness and of course, she fantasizes about her Priest. Since his visit, her thoughts about him have been mostly of concern for him and how much she misses him. It’s been almost two weeks since he stumbled into her flat and a week since she sent the page from the bible. She sighs, worried she may never see him again.

Claire calls her back inside for dessert. Dad has opened yet another bottle of wine and also poured some shots of Limoncello to go with the fancy confection Godmother is serving. When Claire and Klare excuse themselves to get checked into their hotel, she stands, swaying a little with the alcohol. Dad reaches for her elbow and says, “Oh, Darling, let me call you a cab. I don’t want you walking home alone tonight.” She walks Claire to the door and they share a tight hug for a long while. “Thank you for all your help this weekend,” Claire says with a kiss to her cheek. “Oh, it was nothing. At least I got to yell at Martin one last time,” she laughs. They look at each other for a moment, then she quickly hugs Claire again and says, “I’ll miss you.” Claire nods and rushes down the steps to get in the car with Klare. After that, she kisses Dad and Godmother goodbye and climbs into the taxi Dad has booked for her. When the driver asks, “Where to?”, she takes a deep breath and answers “St. Ethelred’s please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Martin and Flea was fun!!!
> 
> PS - Thanks to LSS for helping to determine what kind of house Claire has. But I still left in my American use of townhouse, forgive me if this threw off any Brits! 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	5. The Bench

She stumbles out of the taxi, turning back to thank the cabbie. As she purposely takes the few steps to the door of the rectory, she checks her phone. 11pm. There is no way he’s awake. Shit, she thinks, what is she doing here. What if he’s pissed off? She stops and turns back to the street, hand to her forehead. She looks back down at her phone. “Fuck,” she thinks. What the fuck, why is she over-thinking this? He’s already ex-communicated her, what more can he do? Mind made up, she turns to walk the rest of the way to the door. She looks up and sees her Priest already standing on the stoop.

She stands frozen in place while her eyes adjust to him standing there in the dim light from the open door behind him. “Hi,” she says quietly. “Erm,” he says, “I wasn’t sleeping. And, uh, we don’t get much traffic in the neighborhood at this time of night.” Then he shrugs and adds “I was pretty sure that was your voice and, hah, not a fox, so, I, uh, came to check.”

She quickly takes the two strides to him, stopping to look at him. “You left,” she says quietly. “You left. I was worried.” She stammers, “I know, I know I shouldn’t be here, uh, but I sent you a message, and…” At the same time, he says, “I know.” He turns to close the door behind him, then gently puts his hand on her elbow and guides her to their fox-watching bench.

They sit, facing each other. She sighs and again says, “you left.” Beat. “I, uh, didn’t know,” she pauses, “what to do.” “I’m sorry,” he rushes to say. “I’m so sorry, I know I shouldn’t have left like that.” He takes her hands and apologizes again. They both look at their hands for a moment.

“What happened,” she asks. “Why did you come? I mean, uh, not that I’m complaining, but, uh, I just don’t understand. And then, when you left, I just didn’t know what that meant.” She looks up at him. “I was worried,” she sighs.

Putting two fingers under her chin, he grazes her cheek with his thumb. “I know, I’m shit. Absolute shit.” She shrugs her shoulders. He goes on, “I’m so sorry I did that to you. I just shouldn’t have come,” he says. “Not that I didn’t want to, I just can’t, uh, you know. I just can’t,” he murmurs, dropping his hand from her chin and runs it down his face. He looks out to the street and sighs.

After a few moments, he starts, “Mrs. Cantoni died,” still not looking at her. He looks up and continues, “She, uh, died suddenly. And she and her husband, Frank, are, or, erm, have been long-time, very active parishioners. And, well, that day was her service.” She watches his profile and listens intently. He turns back to her and again takes her hands. Looking down, he goes on, “They were married forever, but she died suddenly and, he, uh, Frank, well, he took it really hard. See, they never had any children, and, uh, the church is their family.” He pauses then sighs, “Anyway, her service was that day and, it was, erm, just hard to see him mourn her.” He looks in her eyes and keeps going, “After the service, I walked him home and watched him cry. And, erm, after that,” he pauses again then slowly continues, “erm, well, I just came back here. I came home and finished off a bottle. I don’t know, it, uh, just made me think of you. I don’t know, I think that that’s, erm, how Frank feels, or felt for Maria, I, uh, feel for you. I don’t know.” He drops her hands and turns away from her. He looks up to the sky, adding, “I’m a mess. I just couldn’t stop thinking about them, and, and, you. So, I changed and walked to a pub to try to distract myself.” He chuckles lightly, turning back to her. “But, uh, I guess that wasn’t the right decision, cause, erm, clearly I, I, couldn’t stop thinking about you.” 

After a few moments, she says, “I’m sorry, uh, about Mrs. Cantoni.” “Me too,” he says. “So,” she asks, “is that it? Is it, I mean, uh, was it, just, just that? Just a, a, a moment?” He straightens up and leans against the back of the bench, looking out at the street again. He shakes his head no. “I’m sorry, erm, I just can’t,” he stutters quietly.

“Can’t or won’t,” she asks. She doesn’t wait for an answer. “It’s not the end of the world for you to love someone other than Him,” she argues lightly, leaning back next to him. 

He softly laughs and says, “Peter chapter 4, verse 8: ‘Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.’ Huh, yeah, I got your message.” He adds, “I know, I know, erm, if only it were that simple.”

She exhales and waits, but he remains still, both of them still facing forward. She wonders what he’s thinking. She’s thankful that he told her why he came that evening, even though nothing has changed for him. He still chooses Him.

She fumbles with her phone and says, “Ok, well, I guess, uh, I should go.” Tears well in her eyes a little and she can’t seem to unlock her phone in her still slightly drunken state. He watches then gently takes the phone from her hand. “What’s your passcode,” he asks. She looks at his hands and says “0126.” He looks at her questioningly and she shrugs, “Mum’s birthday.”

She wipes her hands over her face, surreptitiously trying to stop any tears. Then she looks up at the night sky, waiting for him, hoping he’ll change his mind, say something different. “Here,” he says, handing her her phone. “Your car should be pulling up any minute.” They both stand. “Thanks,” she says, feeling awkward. 

He walks her to the sidewalk and waits with her in silence. When the Uber pulls up, he turns to face her and holds both her hands in his, then kisses her forehead. She quickly gets in the backseat, afraid she might tear up. He leans down to her and says “take care,” then closes her door and taps the roof of the car.

Alone with her thoughts in the car, she sniffles a little, still trying not to cry. When the car drops her at her flat, her phone beeps with a reminder to text him when she gets home, with his phone number entered into the reminder. She slowly enters her flat, staring at her phone in disbelief. She clicks on the number in the reminder and when she does, she can tell he’s input a contact for himself into her phone. Smiling now, she types “I’m home” and clicks send.


	6. Texts

When she wakes in the morning, she remembers and immediately checks her phone. Her Priest replied overnight, “Thanks,” with a sleeping emoji. She smiles at this, then notices that his contact information says “Father” with a picture of a fox. How did he have time to set this up in her phone AND book her an uber without her noticing, she wonders. She stares at her screen for a while contemplating a flirty reply, but isn’t sure, since it seemed like he was once again cutting her out of his life when she left the church last night. She gets up and showers, still pondering a sexy message to bring him back to her. As she lathers, she starts to second guess this idea and becomes frustrated with herself. She is not normally indecisive or tentative when going after what she wants, especially when it comes to sex. This man has really made her question all sorts of things. It’s been such an emotional roller coaster. She employs her favorite therapist’s quote - “you already know what you’re going to do,” and says, out loud, “That’s it. I’m just gonna do it.” She decides she will just be direct. 

When she finishes showering, she picks up her phone and texts “So, what does this mean? Am I supposed to delete your phone number?” It’s 10:15am and she realizes she didn’t say good morning or anything, but, no matter. She’s gonna be direct. She finishes getting ready for the cafe and heads out to open up and accept her deliveries. She checks her phone on the walk but no response. She figures he’s performing mass or some other parish duties, so she tells herself not to fret. She takes a deep breath and gives herself a silent pep talk, “I don’t care how, but I’m not ready to let him go.” And now that she has his number, she feels optimistic that she can keep him in her life, somehow.

After the deliveries are put away, the cafe is open and she gets busy with the lunch rush, so it’s not until about 2pm that she finally checks her phone and sees that he’s responded. She is too excited to wait to read it, so she leaves Meg at the counter and heads to the back.

Father: No, only if you want to.  
Me: But what does it mean? Last night, I thought you were cutting me off again and now I have your phone number???

Nothing for a moment, so she texts back:

Me: Is it for emergencies only?  
Father: I don’t know. I just wanted you to have it. I didn’t think that far ahead. 

Another pause, and she sees the little bubble with the three dots come up but then disappear again. She waits a beat then texts back.

Me: So if it’s not for emergencies only, does this mean we can text?  
Father: Yes.

She rolls her eyes at his short answer and thinks “come on, give me something to work with here.”

Me: You’re really confusing the hell out of me.  
Father: I know, I’m sorry. I’m confused too. I don’t know what to do.

A few moments pass, then he texts again.

Father: I miss you.  
Me: I miss you too.

Me: Can we at least talk? Or text? Anything?  
Father: Yes. I’d like that.

She is beaming at this point.

Father: I can’t offer you a “real” relationship, whatever that is. And I don’t want you putting your life on hold for me.

A moment or two passes while she thinks of an appropriate answer to this when he texts again.

Father: I can’t leave the church.

And there it is, the low point of the roller coaster, when the sadness comes. She hardly even realized that she was hoping, but obviously she was. She just looks at her phone.

Father: But I don’t think I can just walk away either.

Ah hah! An opening, she thinks.

Me: We don’t have to label it. You don’t have to have an answer for everything right now. 

She lets that send and then adds.

Me: I’m not asking you to leave the church. 

She starts typing agan, ”All I want is,” but she isn’t sure how much to open up. So she deletes and starts over.

Me: I’m a grown ass woman, I’ll decide if you’re holding me back.   
Father: OK  
Me: OK. Good.

She exhales deeply and reads over the text string again. She wants to text him and ask him to get together, but she is afraid that might be too much for him. Fuck it, she thinks. I’m gonna be myself and I’m gonna be direct.

Me: So, does this mean we can get together?

She waits a moment, then adds, “Just to talk, if that’s what you want.”

Father: Yeah, ok.

She smiles and thinks, “Here it is. Here is the high part of the damn roller coaster.” She laughs at herself.

Father: I could come to the cafe sometime. That might be a safer, lol, better place to meet.  
Me: LOL, sure, that would be nice. When works for you?  
Father: I can’t tonight. I have youth group. And tomorrow is a consistory meeting. How’s Wednesday?  
Me: Wednesday works. I close up at 6, so come around 6:15?   
Father: Yeah, sure. I’ll see you then.  
Me: Ok, great.

**************  
When she gets a moment later at the cafe, she texts Claire to ask her to call her later. She is giddy but anxious and she needs someone to talk to. Claire has genuinely been so great since the wedding, she’s happy that they’ve started to repair their relationship. Claire texts back immediately and says, “I’m in meetings for a few hours yet. I’ll call you on the way to the airport tonight.”

At home that evening, Claire calls from the airport lounge while she and Klare are waiting for their flight back to Finland.

“Hi,” she answers. Claire says, “Hi. Is everything ok?”

She says, “Yeah, yeah, sorry, no worries. I just needed to talk to you. I saw the Priest and I just needed someone to, uh, I don’t know, just listen, I guess.” She blushes even though Claire can’t see her. She’s not used to being vulnerable with her yet.

Claire says, “What? You saw him? Oh my God. What happened?”

So, she tells her how she took the cab to the church, to which Claire answers, “Oh my God, you did not!!!” She fills her in on the conversation. She sort of glosses over how she felt when she got in the cab and left, again, still not too sure about exposing so much of herself to Claire just yet. When she gets to the part about his reminder and his contact, she can hear Claire gasp. “I know, I was shocked too,” she says. She laughs and tells her about her pep talk to herself in the shower this morning and their text exchange this afternoon and then wraps the story up by relaying their plans to meet at the cafe.

Claire waits a moment, then sighs and says, “Holy shit. This is like secondary school. It’s just up and down and all over the place. How are you dealing with this?” She doesn’t wait for an answer and just keeps going. “He doesn’t deserve you. I still don’t think he’s gonna leave the church and this is only gonna hurt you more.”

“But, uh, but,” she responds. “Maybe I don’t need him to leave the church. I don’t know. Maybe we can just see each other in secret and maybe that’s all I need.” Even as she says it, she’s not sure that she believes it. But she holds steady to the argument, believing if she convinces Claire, she will convince herself too. 

Claire says, “Really? I don’t know. I think you should walk away and leave him alone. Text him and tell him you changed your mind.” Suddenly, she gets excited and says, “Come visit me. My treat. I’m at the airport, I’ll go buy you a ticket. Come to Finland. You can help me settle in and Klare and I will show you around Helsinki. It’ll be fun!”

As surprised as she is by this loving outburst, she isn’t ready to let go. “No, no, but thank you. I can’t. I have the cafe, and,” she stalls. Claire jumps in and says, “Close it! Or let your helper handle it. I think it would be good if you got away.”

She thinks for a second but she knows she won’t go. “No, no, Claire, but thank you,” she answers. Claire sighs again then relents, “ok, ok, but be careful. I’m sorry, I’ve got to go, my flight is boarding.”

“Oh, OK, yeah. Well, thanks for calling. And don’t worry! Bye,” she says quickly before Claire rings off.

She lies back on her couch thinking through all that Claire said. She pushes away the one negative thought she had - that maybe seeing her Priest in secret won’t be enough. She deliberately puts that out of her mind and distracts herself by turning on the TV.


	7. Priest

On Wednesday morning, she stops at an off licence to pick up some G&T’s for the Priest’s visit later. Even though the day is busy with lots of customers for Chatty Wednesday, she is distracted by excitement and anxiety. Around 3pm, she takes a quick break to text her Priest, “are we still on for tonight?” Shortly after, he texts back, “yes, see you around 6:15.” While this doesn’t do much to ease her excitement, she settles down a little bit.

At 6, she closes out the till then heads to the kitchen in the back to chop some carrots and cucumbers for Hilary and Stephanie while Meg is cleaning. When Meg finishes, she walks to the back and says, “Ok boss, I’m all finished up out there. Anything else you need?” She answers, “no thanks, Meg, but leave the door unlocked when you leave. I’m expecting someone.” They say their goodbyes and Meg heads out.

As Meg is leaving, the Priest approaches and says, “oh, hi, I’m here to see the owner.” Meg smiles, confused by the dog collar - she would never expect her boss to meet with a Priest. “Oh yeah, she said she was expecting someone. Go ahead in,” she says. 

As the Priest enters, she is bringing the cucumbers and carrots to Hilary and Stephanie. “Oh, hi,” she says. “Hi,” he replies, staying just within the door. “Come on in,” she says. “Aren’t you hot,” she queries, seeing as he’s in full Priest uniform and it’s a particularly hot August day.

“Erm, oh, yeah, I’m dying,” he answers, “but I sometimes worry that I’ll run into a parishioner and it’ll be awkward if I’m in normal clothes.” She nods and he teases, “Plus, ya know, it’s a good reminder for the both of us.” They both chuckle and she flirts, “Oh, Father, that dog collar never stopped me before. Actually, it works in quite the opposite way.” He laughs then removes the tab in his collar. He gives as good as he gets, saying, “oh, well, then in that case, I am dying from the walk, so….” He then starts to unbutton his shirt. She turns back to the crate, giving Hilary and Stephanie their food, and hiding her surprise (and, let’s be honest, the fact that she is completely turned on by this). When she turns back around, he’s made his way over to a table, wearing a just-tight-enough plain black t-shirt. He throws his shirt over the back of the chair and notices her watching him. “Better,” he asks. “Oh, much, much better, Father,” she teases.

“Have a seat,” she says as she walks quickly to the back. She returns after a few seconds with two cold cans of G&T, showing him and saying, “Maybe this’ll cool you off?” He smiles and says, “yeah, thanks,” taking the can from her. They take a seat across from each other at the table. They each take a sip in companionable silence, then she leans back and kicks off her shoes. “Tough day,” he asks. “Just busy,” she answers. “How was your day?” “Oh,” he says, “the usual. Mass, confession, reading Bibles, writing sermons, visiting the sick. Fun stuff.” She nods, “yeah, sounds fun,” she says flatly, not wanting to appear sarcastic about his chosen profession. She tips her head to the side, stares at him for a moment and wonders about his life. 

“What,” he asks, taking in her curious look. She says, “Is that really a normal day for you? Is it the same every day? I’m curious, ya know, how it works.” He thinks a moment and answers, “Well, erm, I guess it may seem like the same thing every day when I sum it up like that, but it’s not really. I see different people every day, talking to them about their lives and hopefully helping them. And, I’m always reading and writing sermons, trying to, erm, I don’t know, I guess, find relative and important things to preach about. But there’s also the mundane business side of things that I’m sure you deal with too - paying bills, scheduling, stuff like that.”

“Yeah,” she says, listening intently while picturing him at his pulpit. Feeling slightly self conscious, he crosses his arms over his chest at the short pause in the conversation. She smiles and leans her arms on the table, taking her can in between in hands, then silently laughs, “I’ve never known a Priest before you. I never would think a Priest would be someone I’d have anything in common with.” He uncrosses his arms and leans forward on the table, mimicking her. “Hah, yeah,” he replies.

She looks down at her hands, then starts, “But you love it.” She pauses and looks up at him through her eyelashes without tipping up her head. “Don’t you?” she finishes. He doesn’t say anything for a moment and appears to be really considering her question. Then he says, “Well, I suppose, erm, that it’s like most jobs. There are certain things I love, like helping people, giving sermons, being a part of people’s lives, feeling close to God. But, of course, uh, there are things that I don’t like too.” 

Sensing a potential aversion to the profession that keeps him from her, but not wanting to seem too eager, she looks him in the eyes and asks, “Such as?” He half smiles, sensing where she is going, and smiles, “not like that.” He quickly continues, “I mean, like, erm, administrative stuff. And, I find myself frequently at odds with some of the suggested discussions the Vatican expects of us. Uh, ya know, like, I find my personal views to be at odds with a lot of the more conservative positions of the church.” She nods and agrees, “Yeah, I can certainly see that.”

They both look down at the table, quiet for a few moments. Then he says, “I meant what I said when I first met you, I have really found peace in being a Priest. A peace I was, uh,” he pauses, looking back at her, waiting while she tips her head up and looks in his eyes. “Something I was looking for, something that was missing from my life for a long time. And, uh, I don’t know, it just feels right to immerse myself in doing good. It reminds me of my experience with the church when I was a child.”

“Tell me,” she says quietly, taking a sip from her can. He sighs then leans back in his chair. He nervously runs a hand through his hair then takes a long sip from his drink. Looking down at the table, he begins his story. “Well, when I was little, my mum was very involved in the church. She used to take me and my brother all the time and it was a big part of our lives. My dad wasn’t really into it, but he wasn’t into much. He traveled a lot for work and when he was home, he drank and was just, erm, miserable. My mum worked with him, but she handled anything local and her priority was being home with us. As I got older, my dad drank more and more and he really drove all of us away. He didn’t, uh, hit us or anything, but he, well, there was definitely emotional abuse.” He pauses and takes another long sip of his drink. “I’m sorry,” she says quietly, as she waits for him to continue.

“Uh, don’t be. Anyway, he was particularly hard on my brother, I think because he was older and my mum really favored me. He left home around sixteen just to get away from Dad. But my mum and I spent so much time at church whenever Dad was home and it just always felt like a safe space to me. We had friends and family there, and, erm,” he pauses to think. “It was just nice.”

“So, what happened? I mean, what did you do,” she asked. He softly grunts then takes another large gulp of his drink. She takes a sip of her drink as she waits for the rest of his story, hoping that things got better for him when he was younger. “Well, after my brother left, my dad’s drinking was really bad and, after a year or two, he lost his job. Then he started taking his anger out on me. One particularly bad day, mum and I came back from somewhere, uh, I don’t even remember why he was mad or what happened. Anyway, we got into a fight, and he hit me.” He touches his cheek as he remembers. “He slapped me.” He pauses, looking down then finishing off his drink. 

She gets up and gets two fresh cans of G&T for them. When she sits back down, he continues. “I was just finishing up secondary school at the time and, erm, I wanted to leave, but my mom begged me to finish. At that point, we had already heard that my brother was headed down the wrong path, and I, uh, I was all she had. But I was angry, not just with him, but her as well. So I stopped going places with her. I just ignored her, I was so cruel. I just didn’t understand why she wouldn’t leave him. This smart, loving, caring woman, who, erm, who won all these court cases, I just didn’t see why she would stay. Anyway, we stopped going to church and we barely spoke. When I finished school, I just left. I hardly said goodbye or anything.”

They remain silent for a bit. Then she remembers something he said on the night they met. “But, didn’t you say that both your parents were alcoholics,” she asks. He sighs and takes another drink. She does the same. “Yeah,” he answers. I didn’t go back home until my dad died years later. And when I went home, erm, well, my own life was a mess. Uh, anyway, I thought, or, um, I actually was relieved that he was gone. I was old enough to let go of some of the anger I felt toward my mum, so I came home and I stayed. For months, just trying to help her and figure out my own life. But, erm, but she was different. She wasn’t working, she barely went to church. She missed me and my brother, but she couldn’t connect. And, erm, I guess, after dealing with my dad for so long, erm, well, she had drunk years of her life away too.”

“Oh,” she sighs, “I’m so sorry. That’s terrible,” she adds. He takes a deep breath and oddly skips forward in the story, “Yeah, well, anyway, while I was there, our Priest came to visit. I guess he was checking on her after my dad’s death. And when he saw how bad things were for her, he just kept coming. Usually, she wouldn’t even see him, but I was always there to let him in and eventually he convinced me to come back to church.” Seeing where the story is going, she leans back and sighs. She realizes that he’s left out much of his life, but decides it’s best not to press the conversation now. “So, is he the one who got you into the Priesthood then,” she asks. “Yeah,” he replies. “Father Peter. He changed my life and encouraged me to do the same for others.” He pauses for another sip, then continues sadly, “He still looks in on mum for me.”

She reaches across the table and takes one hand in both of hers and just waits in silence. They both look down at their hands. After a minute or so, he pulls his hand back and sighs, dragging his hand through his hair and then over his face. “Ugh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be such a downer. I’m sure that’s not what you asked me here for,” he says. “No,” she quickly counters. “No, don’t say that. I’m glad you told me.”

She pauses, trying to gather some courage to ask her question. She takes a big sip from her drink, leans back and sighs. He must see something in her eyes when he asks, “What? What, just ask me.” She inhales deeply then exhales, rubbing her hands together in nervousness. “Well, I guess, uh, I mean, I was just wondering if all of this, uh, if all of this has to do with...” she pauses, not knowing how to phrase her question. He quickly says, “Yes.” He sighs, then continues, “erm, yes, I don’t want to let him down. Or myself. I’ve found something that keeps me, I don’t know, stable. I don’t want to turn into my dad. And, and, erm, I feel like I’m letting Father Peter down, I’m letting myself down. Erm, I mean, I knew what the vows were when I went into this. And, erm, I don’t know. I guess, well, I, erm,” he stutters then continues, “I just feel guilty.”

They both take a drink and look down. She stands up and walks over to Hilary’s hutch and just processes her thoughts, thinking about the low part of this roller coaster. After watching her back for a minute or two, he says, “I know this doesn’t make any sense. And I’m sorry. I know you’re confused and I’m confused too.” She turns to look at him and he continues, “I’m not ready, or, erm, I mean, I can’t, I can’t just walk away from you yet.” She walks back to the table, standing next to her chair. He goes on, “Can’t we be friends? Or, I don’t know. I mean, like you said in your text, erm, do we have to figure it out right now?”

She sits down and looks at him. “No,” she says. “No we don’t.”


	8. Boo

“It’s late, are you hungry?” she asks. Before he answers, she adds, “Wanna get some dinner? I’m starving.” He answers, “erm, yeah, I could eat.” “Great,” she says a little too eagerly. “Do you want to go somewhere, there’s a couple great places nearby,” she says. He looks at her and hesitates, stuttering a little, “erm, uh.” She waits a moment until he finally says shyly, “erm well, I’m, uh, not really comfortable…” She understands and speaks quickly, “oh, ok, yeah, I understand. How about take away and back to mine,” she pauses, realizing he probably won’t want to go there as he frowns at her. “Uh, ok, ok, I’ll just make us something here, how’s that?” He chuckles, rubs a hand over his face and says, “I don’t want you to wait on me.” She walks over to him and lightly touches his shoulder then laughs, “Oh, I’ll put you to work. Come on, you can help me.”

He follows her back to the kitchen and she turns as they walk, saying “Do you like strawberries? I just got some beautiful ones today and we can make a salad? OK?” They reach the large butcher block kitchen island and he says, “yeah, sure, that’ll be great.” He stands on the opposite side of the island as she reaches behind her to the big fridge, pulling out all the necessary ingredients. She says, “can you grab that colander over by the sink?” He walks over and brings it back to the island, asking, “What can I do?” As she starts opening a container of spinach, she points to the strawberries on the island and answers, “you can put a dozen or so strawberries in there and wash them off in the sink.” He does as she asks as she pulls a large bowl from under the island, placing several handfuls of spinach in the bowl. She takes a red onion and a large knife, thinly slicing a quarter of the bulb and throwing it in the bowl with the spinach. She glances at his back as she stands at the sink rinsing the strawberries, then gets back to her task, throwing a handful of walnuts in with the salad. He walks back to the island with the colander of wet strawberries, looking bashful. She laughs and says, “What?” He pushes the colander to her and says, “I’m not much of a cook, erm, and now that I see you, uh, wielding that knife like a pro,” he pauses to laugh and run a hand through his hair. “Well, uh, I’m impressed, and, erm, maybe a little bit intimidated.” 

She laughs at this while she opens the container of feta crumbles. “It’s no big deal,” she says. “Here,” she says, handing him the cheese. “Throw a handful of this into the bowl. I’ll slice the strawberries.” He does as she asks, saying, “oh, ok, I think I can handle this.” 

She begins cutting the strawberries then pauses to look up at him watching her. Standing there in his perfectly fitting tee, she thinks about how gorgeous he is. Unconsciously, she licks her lips. “Come here,” she says. “You can cut these.” 

He walks over to her side and she hands him the handle of the knife. He puts his hand on top of hers to take it and she pauses a moment before letting go, just looking at him. She releases her grip and picks up a strawberry, taking a bite. He faces the counter and begins slicing, nervously. She’s standing really close watching him intently, chewing on her strawberry. He asks, “How am I doing,” without looking up or stopping. “Not too bad, I guess. They don’t have to be cut perfectly anyway,” she laughs. “They’ll taste the same either way,” she adds with a chuckle. 

He finishes chopping and she begins collecting the berries in her hands and dropping them in the bowl. He picks one up from the counter and takes a bite. “Mmm,” he says, “so good.” She takes another bowl from under the island and begins dumping in the ingredients for the dressing as he watches. When she notices that he’s just watching her, she points out to the counter in the cafe and asks, “can you go grab two slices of bread - either French or focaccia?” He walks to the counter and she watches him look at the bread selection for a little too long. She laughs to herself, thinking - he has no idea which is which. He comes back with 2 slices of French bread. Lucky guess, she wonders. As she whisks the dressing, she points to the toaster and asks him to pop them in for a few. She walks to the cupboards and grabs 2 plates, then uses tongs to plate the salads. She slowly pours dressing on top of both while he walks the bread back to her, saying, “here you go,” shyly. She points to the plates and he places one on each, then she reaches across him, inhaling his scent, as she grabs the olive oil. She drizzles a little on each slice of bread and says, “Voila.” Not looking down at the plates but staring at her with the olive oil in her hand, he says, “Wow.”

She chuckles and grabs a plate. She begins walking to the cafe and asks, “Wine with dinner? I think I have a bottle hidden here somewhere.” He hurries to catch up with her and says, “yeah, sure.” She points to the drawer in the counter and asks him to get the utensils on her way to another cupboard for the bottle. She grabs 2 glasses and napkins on her way back to the table, then sits down to join him.

“This looks great,” he says. “Thank you,” he adds. “Ah, it was easy,” she answers. “Besides, I wasn’t ready for you to leave yet.” She hands him the wine opener and asks, “Do the honors?” He takes the tool and says, “Sure.” As he opens the bottle, she says, “I’m not sure that it’s anything great, but it’ll do. I don’t drink here a lot.” She pauses and quietly adds, “well, anymore,” looking around at the cafe and avoiding his eyes. He pours wine for each of them and places his napkin on his lap. “Well, thank you then,” he says, picking up his wine glass to toast. She mimics this and they look at each other for a moment. Finally, he laughs and says, “to friendship? Erm, no, to peace?” She laughs with him and says, “how about just to health and happiness?” He nods as they clink glasses then each take a sip.

They each take a bite and he compliments her food again. She thanks him and they eat in silence for a few moments. They each sip their wine, again staring at each other. She can feel the tension building. He looks down and takes another bite. Then he asks, “So, where did you learn how to cook?” She laughs and says, “strawberry spinach salad is hardly cooking.” He tilts his head to the side while he looks at her and says, “yeah, but still….”

She sighs and takes another sip of her wine. “Well, I guess I just learned by doing. We, er, I mean, I,” she pauses ever so briefly and looks at some of the pictures on the wall. “I don’t make anything too complicated here. Salads, sandwiches, soups. All the bread and most of the baked goods I get from a bakery. It’s mostly just chopping and mixing,” she says.

He leans forward toward her and says, “I have a feeling you’re being modest.” She takes another sip and says, “no really, not much fancy. But I am willing to try recipes and mess around in the kitchen. Sometimes it works, sometimes it goes in the trash.” She laughs.

After a moment, he takes a sip of wine then says, “So, tell me about the friend that you opened this place with.” She sighs then finishes her glass of wine. She looks at him, trying not to show her anxiety. He looks back at her with caring in his eyes, just waiting in patient silence. She refills her wine glass and tops his off. Finally she says, “Ok. Ok, I’ll tell you about Boo.” She stands and goes to the hutch in the corner. She gets Hilary from her crate and returns to her seat with her in her arms. He smiles at this, but still waits. With Hilary in her arms, she takes another bite of her dinner. “Boo was my best friend,” she starts. As they eat, she tells him how wonderful Boo was, how loving and fun their relationship was. She tells him about opening the cafe and how Boo was there for her when her mum died. He listens intently, laughing with her at the funny antics with her and Boo. The entire time she talks, she holds Hilary gently in the crook of her bent arm. 

When they finish eating, she leans back in her chair. “Then,” she says. She pauses then stands, fidgety. He can see she is nervous. She hands Hilary to him and he takes the guinea pig in his arms. She paces a little and again says, “then,” with a sigh. She tells him how Boo was in love with Jack and how she slept with Jack. “Out of jealousy or desperation, I don’t know,” she says at this point, with tears in her eyes. Then she abruptly sits back in her chair and tells him how Boo wanted to hurt herself and what happened with the bike accident. He gasps a little but continues listening and petting Hilary.

“She never knew,” she says. “She didn’t know it was me. And she died because of what I did. And she was my best friend…” she stutters and takes a deep breath. Quietly, with tears streaming down her face lightly, she adds, “and I lost her forever.”

He leans forward and takes her hand. She wipes her tears with her free hand then places it on top of his. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “She sounds wonderful. And, and, I’m glad you had her in your life.” She sighs again and he continues. “It sounds like she loved you very, very much. And she’s left your Hilary and, erm, this place, as, as a legacy of your love for each other.”

She sniffles a little and looks around. “Yeah, uh, I guess that’s why this place is so important to me. I, uh, sorta feel like I owe it to her.” She pauses then continues, “I feel like, uh, I don’t know, maybe, she’ll forgive me if, uh, hah,” she laughs, “if this place is a massive success in her honor. It’s stupid. I don’t know.” 

He says, “I’m sure she’s already forgiven you, erm, she sounds like a very forgiving friend.” He stands and puts Hilary back in her crate. When he returns to the table, she is sitting with her arms crossed, staring at the door. He puts his hand on her shoulder and says, “I think, erm, I think it’s you,” emphasizing the word you. “You need to forgive yourself,” he says. She nods and puts a hand over his. With his other hand, he gently touches her elbow and pulls her up. She stands and faces him, but doesn’t make eye contact. He puts both hands on her arms, rubbing gently, then says, “Forgiveness…” but pauses before going further. He places his arms on her back and pulls her into a tight hug. 

After a moment, she sighs and returns the hug, relishing his arms around her. They stay like this for a while, his hands rubbing her back. She thinks about his reaction and she sighs with relief. He’s the best man I’ve ever known, she thinks. She thinks how much she loves him and turns her head slightly, so that her mouth is almost on his neck. She stays like this, enjoying his scent and embrace, feeling his heartbeat between them. Then suddenly, he pulls away from their hug, taking a small step back. “Uh, erm, uh,” he stutters. “Yeah, uh, yeah,” she says, not wanting to push things so that he leaves, but desperate to feel his arms around her again. 

She turns to face the table and says, “well, I guess we should clean up.”


	9. Just for Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All that sexual tension......leads us to some very steamy smut. Enjoy!

They carry their plates and glasses into the kitchen, him following behind her. He follows her lead, cleaning off their plates and setting everything into the large sink. He says, “I’ll take care of this, you get the rest.” She replies, “thanks,” then walks to the island to put everything away. When she’s cleaned up all the food, she wipes the counter down then walks back to the sink where he’s just finishing the last of the dishes. She leans against the side of the basin, facing him, while he turns the water off. He turns to face her, mirroring her position at the side of the sink. “Here,” she says, handing him the towel. He reaches for it and they both hold on as they look into each other’s eyes for a moment. Trying to break the tension, she laughs, “ya know, I’d hire you here if the Priest thing doesn’t work out.” He chuckles lightly, “thanks,” as he wipes his hands.

He looks back into her eyes, then suddenly steps forward and kisses her. At first it’s soft and slow, but then he puts one hand behind her, towel still between his fist, and the other on her neck. She opens her mouth and leans into him, tasting the strawberries and wine. They meet tongues and lips. She puts her hands in his soft hair. She moans into his mouth then remembers their earlier conversation. Without pulling away, she says, “I thought,” pausing to continue the kiss. He moves his mouth to her neck, kissing and nibbling. Throwing her head back, she softly says, “I thought you couldn’t.” She pauses, distracted by his mouth. “I thought you,” pausing again as he kisses to the other side of her neck, one hand behind her head, the other slowly grazing her back and arse.

Moving his mouth to her ear, he nibbles then whispers, “I have an idea.” He begins kissing and sucking down her neck. Barely seeing straight, her hands still in his hair, she responds, “Oh, then, I’m all ears, Father.” He removes his hands from her and places them on top of hers at the back of his neck, gently placing her hands back at her sides. Still holding her hands lightly, he kisses her neck then again nibbles on her earlobe, saying, “this is just for you.” He returns to her mouth, desperately kissing her as he moves his hands to her belly then slowly up to her tits.

She starts to put her hands on his back and he quickly catches them with his. He pulls away from her mouth and joins her hands with his in between them. He brings her hands to his lips and gently kisses them. Looking in her eyes, he says, “just for you, ok? Keep your hands here,” and he puts her hands back at her sides.

She nods her understanding. He releases her hands at her hips and skims down her legs, past her dress to her bare legs. He slowly bends down, keeping his eyes on hers. He lifts her dress lightly and hooks his fingers into each side of her knickers. Slowly, he pulls them down to the floor, pausing at her feet. She grabs onto the side of the sink with one hand, as he gently lifts one foot then the other. Still bent down, he looks up at her and slides her panties into his trouser pocket. Then, with both hands gliding up her smooth legs, he returns to standing in front of her. 

Leaning in to kiss her deeply, his hands reach the apex of her thighs. One hand slides up her hip, then her back, holding her in place, while he skims the other over her pussy. Still holding onto the sink, she squeezes her other hand into a fist to stop herself from reaching for him. He slides one, then two fingers in between her folds. Slowly rubbing her pussy, he pulls away from her mouth to look at her. He watches her as he pushes two, then three fingers into her tight cunt. “Ahhhhh,” she moans, staring in his eyes. He smiles and teases, “is that good?” She nods. He pulls his fingers out to find her clit. As he begins circling her clit, he brings his mouth back to hers and she moans again. 

After a few moments, he pulls away from her kisses. He removes his hand from her back and places it on top of her hand on the sink, then removes his fingers from her clit. He takes her hand and begins to walk. She shakes her head a moment, as she tries to catch up to him. He looks back at her and smiles, then says, “Come. Come on.”

He guides her to the island that she just cleaned and places her back against the short side. She stops there, facing him, and says, “Are you sure?” “Yes,” he responds, as he places his hands on her sides and easily lifts her to the edge of the counter. He looks in her eyes for a moment then says, “Remember, Love, this,” and he puts his hands on her arms, reminding her again. She nods and whispers, “yes,” caught in his intense stare and replaying his saying “Love” over and over again in her head.

He returns his hands to her legs, slowly guiding them apart as he looks down at her smooth skin. She exhales deeply, she’s so turned on by his words, his hands, his mouth and his intense stare. He looks back up and smiles, then cups her face with both hands to tenderly kiss her. Momentarily forgetting, she starts to bring her arms up and he catches them with his, even as they are deeply kissing. He places her hands on the counter behind her and breaks away from their kiss.

Not losing eye contact, he drops to his knees as she watches in surprise. She is in complete awe that this man, who can turn her on with a brush of his hand, who sees and accepts her, who just called her “Love”, is now kneeling in front of her. Gently, he slides both hands up her thighs and lifts her dress. His fingers once again find her folds, rubbing softly. With one hand, he pushes her legs further apart again and stares intently at her pussy. Finally, he leans in with his mouth. Slowly, he licks and rubs with his fingers. She utters, “holy, oh, jesus, Oh my God.” He chuckles lightly, looking up for a brief second and removing his tongue. He continues rubbing his fingers, while he slides his other hand up her side. “Do you want to lie back,” he asks, starting to rub a little harder on her clit.

Without a word, she slowly lies back on the hard counter, closing her eyes to the ceiling above and moving her hands to grip the sides of the island. He kisses her inner thigh, then nibbles a little in the same spot, continuing to circle her clit. He runs his other hand up her other thigh and across her stomach, then down to her mound. He uses his fingers to gently open her pussy then leans down to lick her clit gently. His tongue is light at first, circling her clit together with his fingers, tasting her delicately. After a few moments, he moves his fingers down to push into her cunt. He then sucks hard on her clit. She cries out at this. He continues his suction as she moans, pumping his fingers harder into her. He begins alternating licking and sucking at her clit desperately. She can’t help but to buck her hips and grip the counter tighter, calling out, “Holy shit, oh my God.” Applying even more pressure with his tongue, he licks at her clit, lapping at a faster pace. She tips her hips up involuntarily, yelling out “Fuuuuuuucccckkkkkk.” He once again sucks at her clit, this time sucking and licking simultaneously feeling her orgasm coming. He applies more pressure with his tongue and once again ups his pace with his fingers inside her. 

As she comes, he slows his tongue and fingers, easing up on the pressure so she can feel the crest of her orgasm. He pulls his mouth away, gently rubbing his mouth along her inner thigh as he looks up at her. He removes his fingers from inside her, but slowly continues rubbing her clit with them. He slowly stands as she opens her eyes and looks at him. “You good, Love,” he asks, continuing to caress her pussy with his fingers. “So good,” she says quietly. “So fucking good,” she smiles. “Good,” he says, returning her smile. 

“Want me to stop,” he asks. Still lying on the counter with her hands grasping the edges and his fingers slowly stroking her pussy, she can barely speak. “Love? Want me to stop?” She shakes her head no, looking up at the ceiling again. “Ah, good,” he teases. He lifts her dress further with his free hand then bends down to kiss her stomach. Through her dress, he begins rubbing her tit. When he finds her nipple, he rolls it between his thumb and forefinger. He moves to the side of the counter, pulling her dress and bra down to free her breasts. He leans down and begins sucking her nipple slowly. He pulls his mouth away to look in her eyes and smiles. “Still good?” he whispers just above her tit, so that the air tightens her nipple more. “Mmmmm hmmmmm,” she replies, staring in his eyes. 

She drops her head back again and gasps as he returns to sucking her nipple. She is so in love with this man, she has to bite her lip not to tell him right then. He picks up the pace, circling her clit with his fingers and lapping at her tit. Again, she bucks her hips, throwing her head to the side to watch him. She exhales deeply and moans. He moves his thumb to her clit, increasing the pressure and slowly pushing one finger inside her cunt. She screams, “Fuck! Fuck, oh my God!” He lifts his eyes without removing one bit of suction and smiles at her. “I want you, I want you right now,” she says. “Fuck me! Please!” He continues rubbing and sucking, upping his pressure and pace. “Father?” she repeats, “fuuuuuccckkkk, will you,” she pauses. “I want you inside me right fucking now!” she yells, tilting her hips up and lifting her head to plead with him.

“No, Love,” he says. “No, this is just for you, remember?” He kisses her mouth deeply then sucks at her collarbone before returning to her tits. “Come for me,” he says softly in between sucking. “Come, Love.” And with that, she cums, screaming his name amidst a string of expletives.


	10. A Few Days

A few moments later, when she’s come down from the high of her second orgasm of the night, she sighs loudly then smiles. As she starts to sit up, her Priest takes her hands and helps her. She turns to put her legs over the side of the kitchen island she was just laying on. “Ok?” he asks, a bit shyly. “Hah,” she laughs, “of course. I mean, I may never look at this island the same way again, but, hah, yeah.” She reaches out to him and pulls him into her chest, hugging him between her arms and legs. They stay like this, silent for several moments. Still holding on to him, she asks, “you ok?” He sighs into her neck then says, “Uh, I don’t know. Ask me tomorrow.” “I will,” she responds.

He disengages from their tight embrace and takes a step back, reaching into his pocket for her pants. He gracefully dresses her, fixes the top of her dress, then helps her down from the counter. They walk back to the front of the cafe holding hands. “Thank you for dinner,” he says. She chuckles, “and thank YOU...uh...for coming.” They stare at each other and laugh lightly.

“Well, it’s late. I need to get back,” he says. “Yeah,” she agrees, as she walks to the back to turn off the lights. They meet at the front door and she leans to kiss his cheek. “I’ll check in with you tomorrow, ok?” she asks. “Yeah, of course,” he says with a slightly somber look. “What? You don’t want me to,” she questions, but he interrupts to say, “No, of course, we’ll talk tomorrow.” She puts her hand softly on his cheek and says, “ya know, it’s, it's ok if this is all it can be. Stolen moments… It's, uh, it’s better than nothing,” she pauses, then rushes, “I just want, I mean, if this is how I can stay in your life.” She knows full well that this isn’t the only worry weighing on him, but she doesn’t know what else to say. He says nothing, just looks down for a second then pushes the door open. He touches her arm for a moment and says, “ok, I’ll talk to you.” She says goodbye and they walk in opposite directions to their homes.

**********************************

The next morning, she wakes blissfully, immediately remembering her previous evening. She rolls onto her back, eyes still closed, reminiscing on how her Priest touched her last night. She pictures his hands, his mouth, his breath on her, all over her body. She’s immediately excited. She sighs and runs a hand down her body, softly finding her clit with her fingers. She begins a slow, circular rhythm with her hand while conjuring exactly how her Priest devoured her pussy with his mouth. With her other hand, she reaches over to her nightstand, searching blindly for her favorite vibrator. When she finds it, she’s already wet and writhing, her breath and heart rate quickening. Her favorite toy, the one she’s chosen as she’s re-enacting her Priest going down on her, is not so much a vibrator, but more of a tiny vacuum for her most sensitive body part. She clicks it on, slowing then spreading her fingers apart so she can apply the small mouth directly to her clit. She sighs, using a little more pressure, clicking the vibrator up a few levels, then working it in short circular motions. Her eyes still closed, she recalls how her Priest used his fingers to spread her wide so he could lick and suck her. She smiles, wondering why on earth would a Priest have such amazing skills at cunnilingus. Why would he hide or waste such talent, she thinks with a laugh. Pressing the button up another level, she involuntarily bucks her hips. A few moments later, her orgasm is washing over her. She can feel it from the top of her head to the tip of her toes, thoroughly satiated. 

She sighs and smiles then rolls over to check her phone. No messages. She texts her Priest. “Good Morning. Getting up to any trouble today?” She stretches and gets up to prepare for her day.

Several hours later, when she has a free moment at the cafe, she sees that he’s answered her text from the morning. “Hey. No, no trouble today. Can we talk tonight?” She types “yes” back quickly and jumps back to the line of customers at the counter.

A little after 9 that evening, he texts, “are you free?” “Finally!” she thinks with a smile, quickly answering him positively. And with that, he calls.

“Hi,” she answers, still smiling.

“Hey,” he says. “How was your day,” he asks, his Irish lilt particularly obvious. She wonders if he’s imbibing.

“Ok,” she answers. “Busy, I guess. Yours?”

“Eh, ok. The usual,” he answers. There’s an awkward silence for a moment. They haven't talked on the phone before. If he knew her better, he would know that she hates talking on the phone. She often ignores calls from her dad or others, mentally willing callers to hang up and text. But, of course, she’d never say that to her Priest. Hell, she’d stay on the phone with him even if he was reciting scripture, just to hear his lovely voice. 

“So, are you calling to break up with me again?” she teases with a laugh, taking a sip of her wine.

“Hah, no, no, no,” he says quickly. “No, definitely not,” he repeats a little more forcefully. She can hear him take a sip.

“What are you drinking?” she asks.

“Irish whiskey. You?” he asks.

“Uh, I don’t know. It might be a chardonnay,” she answers with a chuckle. “So,” she says, taking a more somber tone, “how do you feel today?” She pauses, then adds, “I mean, uh, ya know, after last night.”

She can hear him sigh heavily then take another sip. “Well, ok, I guess. I mean, I’m not, I don’t know, completely discomposed, or anything.” He pauses for a moment then continues, “But I do feel guilty, as if I’ve committed a, a, as if I’ve...” 

She waits and listens, wanting to give him space to explain his feelings. He goes on, “I mean, I guess I don’t feel quite the same, erm, as I did when we, uh,” he pauses, then says, “before the wedding. But I still feel like I’ve done something terrible. I’ve broken my vows.”

She waits a few moments, listening to his breathing. She doesn’t want to say anything if he isn’t done. Finally, she says, “I’m sorry.” After a few seconds she adds, “I wish you didn’t feel that way. I wish, uh, I just wish I could say or do something to help. I mean, is there anything I can do?”

She hears him take another sip then he says, “I’m sorry that I, I, erm,” he pauses, then continues, “listen, Love, I don’t regret, I don’t regret, well, you. I just can’t give you up. I just hate myself for, erm, letting...”

At this, she sits up straighter on the sofa, inhaling sharply. “No,” she says firmly. “No, please don’t. This isn’t right! I mean, isn’t it the stupid, antiquated rules of the church that are making you feel this way?” Without waiting for him to answer, she keeps going, “please don’t say that.”

He sighs. She takes a moment to think, then appeals to him, “Maybe we just need to talk about it. Maybe I can help you?” she pleads. “Or, or, maybe there’s another Priest you can talk to? I mean, you can’t tell me there aren’t other Priests out there who have felt this way?”

He laughs lightly then says, “uh, well, I’m sure there are, but I haven’t found them.” She waits, curious what this means, while he takes another sip and refills his glass. “I went to confession. After we, we,” he pauses, “after the wedding.” 

She doesn’t know why, but she is surprised by this. All she can say is “Oh?”

“Yeah, erm, and it...well, it didn’t help,” he says. “Or, I should say, I felt as if I had been to confession, like, just like any other person. Not like, erm, not like…”

“Oh,” she says disappointed. Perking up, she says, “I have a therapist.” She laughs to herself, thinking of the woman in her glasses and scarf, sitting in her big chair applying lotion to her forearms. “I mean, well, you were there. Remember when my dad gave me that gift at dinner?” She continues, “I mean, I went. Well, I go. Every other week.” She pauses, wondering for the briefest second if she should be embarrassed by this confession. “Maybe, uh, maybe you could talk to her, I mean, or someone like her?” She shakes her head, thinking this isn’t sounding right then she rushes to continue, “I’m not helping. I’m sorry. I just mean, maybe there is someone, another Priest even....” She doesn’t know what else to say, she worries she’s said too much and she doesn’t want to push him too much.

“Yeah, uh, yeah,” he says. “Thanks for trying to help, even if it’s for selfish reasons,” he finishes with a chuckle.

After a moment of silence, he says, “Listen, Love, erm, I, I just need to figure this out. OK?” After only a second’s pause, he continues, “I just, I just need a few days, Love. I’m not, I’m not going anywhere.” He takes a sip and she waits, picturing herself strapped into the roller coaster ride, coasting through a dip. “I promise, Darlin’, please, just, just give me a few days. OK?” he says. 

“OK,” she answers quietly as she sighs. “Yeah, sure, of course,” she adds. 

“Just a few days,” he quietly repeats. “OK? Erm, ok, take care,” he says.

“Ok, you too,” she answers solemnly. And they both hang up. 

She lies back on her couch, pressing the palms of her hands into her eyes. She gulps down the remainder of her wine and says to no one, “Who knew? Who knew loving a Priest would be so hard?”

*****************************

True to his word, her Priest texts Saturday afternoon. She is busy at the cafe by herself, with Meg off for the day, so she doesn’t see his message till after closing. “Can I see you tomorrow after mass?”

Texting back with a smiley emoji, she types, “Sure, cafe is closed, so just let me know when.”


	11. Confession

He arrives at her flat a little after 1pm on Sunday, ringing the doorbell. She was surprised when he suggested he come to hers when they texted last night, but she remains hopeful that this means he feels better. Or at least, he feels less guilty. 

She opens the door and steps aside so he can enter. When she closes the door, he turns to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Hullo Love,” he says. She smiles and silently watches him walk into the living room of her flat, just admiring his neck and shoulders. He’s dressed in full Priest uniform again, but he’s already begun removing his blazer.

She follows him in and finally says, “Hello Father. Can I get you anything? Water or anything?” She deliberately flirts with him when she says this. He shakes his head and just looks at her for a moment, both of them holding the other’s gaze. Finally he swallows and says, “No, no, thanks. I’m ok.”

“Good, good, come in. Want to sit?” she asks as she moves to the sofa. He follows her and they both sit on the couch, facing each other but several centimeters apart. He throws his blazer behind him on the couch then exhales. He removes the tab from his collar and unbuttons a few buttons of his shirt. She just watches, almost surprised that he’s comfortable enough to do this. She can see the top of another black t-shirt once a few buttons are open. She licks her bottom lip and watches his hands. 

When he finishes, he rubs the palm of his hands up and down his thighs a few times and she comes back to reality. “So, uh, good service today, Father?” she teases, purposely batting her eyelashes an extra time or two. He smiles and nods, seemingly impervious to her flirtatiousness. After a moment, he answers, “yeah, fine. All good. What have you been up to while I’ve been serving the Lord?”

She smiles, looking in his eyes for a beat. “Oh, ya know, the usual debauchery, catching up on reading for my erotic book club and categorizing my vibrators by color,” she teases. When he laughs, he laughs with his whole body and she stares. She loves his laugh. She loves the crinkle of his eyes and the way he throws his head back, showing off his beautiful neck. When he finishes laughing, he grabs one of her hands then ribs, “Oh, what am I going to do about you?” “Oh, Father, I’m sure we can think of something,” she quickly answers with a smile.

He rubs his thumb over her hand, looks down and chuckles. After a second, he begins, “So, you were right, erm, about talking to someone.” He looks in her eyes and continues, “I went to confession yesterday.” She inhales deeply and just says, “Oh?” “Yeah, yeah,” he answers, then scoots a little closer to her. “I went to a different Priest than the one from before. One a little younger. I mean, erm, I know them both and like them both but, just, uh, thought I’d try….” He pauses a moment, then goes on, “Anyway, I went to confession but he, he knew it was me. So we just had tea and talked.” 

“And?” she asks after he looks down again and pauses. “How, how did it go?” she asks. He smiles, still looking at his hand on hers, and answers, “Good, yeah. Good. He really listened and, and he, well, he had some interesting views on the situation.” He looks back in her eyes and adds, “He, he agrees with you actually. What you said about the antiquated rules of the church.” She feels her heart rate quicken with a surge of hopefulness. She smiles and continues listening as he goes on, “He talked about laws versus vows of the church and sometimes how countries stop enforcing laws when they aren’t valid, or, erm, needed any longer, but, but, it might take years for the law to be removed. Erm, he feels that, well, we discussed that maybe some of our vows are the same. I mean, well, obviously in the terms of a healthy, consensual adult relationship.”

She pulls his free hand into her lap and eagerly listens to his story. “Well, I guess he made a good point, erm, about how much celibacy is engrained when we are in seminary, but, but now that we are out in the world, it’s uh, more of a societal expectation, rather than the church, ya know, hammering into our heads. And, and, he’s right about that. That really was a, a sigh of relief I guess. So, we just talked about you, or you and me for a while and, well, it just doesn’t make sense that God would send you to me,” he pauses to look up, then continues quickly, “but not let me love you. I just don’t think God is like that.”

They both sigh and smile at each other. “I mean, I still love being a Priest, and, and, I love serving God and my congregation. But, but…” he looks down briefly then back to her rushing to say, “I love you too. And if you’re willing to, to, I don’t know, I guess…” At this point, she grabs his face with her hands and pulls him into a soft kiss. She doesn’t need him to finish his sentence. She leans their foreheads together and he puts his hands on her wrists while she still holds his face. “I love you too,” she says. She drops her hands and backs away a little then asks with a smile, “So...so are we gonna try, try and do this?” He answers her with a nod and a deep kiss.

“So, what plans do you have for the rest of the day,” he asks. “Nothing,” she answers. “I’m all yours.” He stands and takes her hand, “Good, good,” he says. “I’ve got plans for us,” he says as they walk to the bedroom.


	12. Never Enough

She follows him into her bedroom, holding his hand. Once again, she pictures herself on the roller coaster, but this time with her Priest beside her on the ride, working their way to the top of the hill. He stops next to the bed and they face each other, holding both hands and smiling at each other. “So,” she says as she exhales. He places both hands on her cheeks and pulls her into a slow tender kiss. She reaches for him, resting her hands on the back of his neck and feeling the soft hair at the back of his head. They deepen the kiss, breathless.

She begins unbuttoning the rest of his shirt as he kicks off his shoes. She throws his shirt on the floor behind them and he begins kissing down her neck to her shoulder. She manages to pull his t-shirt up in the back and begins rubbing his back while breathing hard in his ear. He runs his hand down her back then grips her butt with both hands and pushes her into his chest, returning his mouth to hers.

He pauses their kissing and leans back slightly so they can look in each other’s eyes. Once again, they smile at each other. “I love you,” he says, maintaining an intense but loving look. She looks away but only for the briefest moment then back in his eyes. “I love you too,” she says.

He pulls her tank top over her head, leaving her completely exposed up top. She gasps and he smiles. He takes one of her hands, then, with his free hand, he places his pointer finger on her shoulder and slowly traces it down her chest to her tit. He begins rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger as he stares at her breast, licking his lips. He places his other hand on her back, grazing his way up to her neck and pulling her into a kiss. She moans into his mouth as he continues working her nipple. 

She forcefully grabs the bottom of this t-shirt and begins pulling it off of him. He pauses their kiss so she can remove it completely. When she does, she deliberately takes a step back so she can look at him. He drops both hands to his sides and she stares at him, biting her lower lip. He looks at her and almost growls her name. She grabs his belt buckle and pulls him toward her, smashing her lips into his and opening his belt. He shoves his hands into her shorts, cupping her bare ass while they continue kissing. With his belt open, she unbuttons his trousers then slowly unzips, deliberately stroking his cock as she does. He groans into her mouth.

She begins kissing and nibbling down his neck as she reaches inside his briefs, gently stroking him. She pushes him back a bit, breaking their kiss and looking in his eyes. Biting her lip again, she puts her hands on his waist and pushes his trousers and briefs to the floor, pausing for the briefest moment to catch his stare while she is bent down. “Love,” he whispers as she returns to standing. She smiles at this and responds with another deep kiss. As they are kissing, so much is happening but not in the usual flurried pace. Instead they are both slow and deliberate. She’s stroking his cock with one hand, her other hand on the back of his neck. He’s stepping out of his trousers while also working her shorts down her thighs. 

When they are finally free of their clothes, they stop for a beat, catching their breath and lightly holding hands. Not bothering to remove the covers, they lie down on the bed, him above her on his elbows. He brushes her hair off her forehead and gazes at her. “You, you haven’t disappeared at all,” he whispers. “Yeah,” she says with a shy smile. They tenderly kiss as she lightly scratches his back with one hand and begins stroking his cock with the other. He kisses down her neck then sucks on her tits gently. Holding himself up with one arm, he feels for her pussy with his free hand, rubbing softly between her folds. She is already so wet for him and he moans in response to her arousal. She sighs his name as he pushes two, then three fingers into her cunt. He smiles and looks up to meet her gaze. 

She tips her hips up and communicates her want with a long exhale. He removes his fingers from her pussy, pausing to quickly massage her nipple, then puts two fingers in his mouth to taste her. She gasps at this and he smiles, always pleased when he surprises her. With that, she grabs his cock and scoots her hips slightly, again communicating her readiness. He puts his hands next to her shoulders and slowly enters her with a sigh. She moans his name, enjoying the full feeling of his length. They slowly begin moving together, thrusting their hips together, finding a rhythm, never losing eye contact. 

They kiss deeply, tongues tangled, breathing erratic, moans coming from deep within. They steadily increase their pace and she whispers his name. He props himself up on an elbow to look at her, continuing to thrust, meeting her hips with a steady rhythm. For a brief moment, she recalls her fantasy where they slowly made love and she thinks, “ok, now this, I like.” He sees her smile slightly change and he says, “you good, Darlin’?” She nods and slowly moves her hands down his back to his hips, applying pressure with her palms, pushing his cock further into her. “Oh God,” she moans, surprised that this steady pace feels just as good at the frenetic sex they’ve had before. This is like they first time they had sex, she thinks, only now she feels more free, more love, and more in love. At this thought, she can’t help herself. She tells him she loves him, softly uttering his name. He returns the words, and when he says her name, she feels like her heart might burst. They immediately accelerate their pace, frantically kissing each other breathlessly. He moans into her mouth and she can feel her orgasm begin. She throws her head back, moaning his name as she cums. And with that, he follows her orgasm, saying her name and “Love” over and over.

*************************************

Lying in bed, woven in each other’s arms, she lightly strokes his back with her fingers. “What time do you have to be back?” she asks. “Uh, not for awhile yet. What time is it? I’m starving,” he answers. She chuckles at this. “What? I didn’t eat all day, Darlin’. I couldn’t think of anything but seeing you,” he says. “Jesus, I barely made it through my sermon,” he laughs. “Well, then, Father, you shall eat,” she teases. “The only problem is that I don’t have much food. Should we order something?” she asks as she sits up. He immediately pulls her back down and kisses her. She laughs and through his kisses says, “if you want food, you’re going to have to let me up for a moment.” He lays on his back, releasing her and whines, “Fine.”

She scoots out of bed and finds his black t-shirt on the floor, throwing it over her head. He smiles as she pulls it on. It barely covers her ass, so she turns and shows him with a laugh. He rubs a hand through his hair, shaking his head as he watches her.

She returns a moment later with her phone in her hand, asking what types of food he likes and doesn’t like. They end up ordering Thai delivery. When she’s done, he takes her phone and lightly drops it on her nightstand. Then he pulls her down to the bed, snuggling her back against his chest. “Don’t think you’re keeping my shirt,” he says. “My clothing allowance doesn’t cover much,” he adds. “Clothing allowance?” she asks bewildered. He laughs. “Yeah, hah, to cover my outfits,” he adds with air quotes. And they both laugh at the memory of his proper plum vestment. 

When the food arrives, they eat in bed. She’s still in his t-shirt, he’s wearing only his boxer briefs. He relays how he stuttered through his sermon at mass this morning when his mind wandered for a second, thinking about visiting her today and they both laugh. “So, Father, even though I am banned from your church, are you saying that I still distract you?” she flirts. He shakes his head laughing, “Jesus, if you were there, I’d have really been a mess.” He leans close to her and gives her a quick kiss on the cheek. “It’s fine, I made it through. But, no,” he teases, “you still can’t come to my church.” She chuckles and teases, “Oh, but I love it when you stammer through a service!” He takes her food and sets both plates on her nightstand then pulls her into his arms. “Yes, I’m sure you do,” he laughs. 

She crawls into his lap, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, stretching her legs out in front of her. He hugs his arms around her, lifting his shirt to rub her back. They stay like this for several moments, peacefully silent. After awhile, he says, “Ya know I didn’t realize that I missed this so much?” “What?” she teases, “all the orgasms?” He laughs lightly then says, “No, no, I mean hugs. Any sort of affection really. Just, erm, just being touched.” “Oh,” she says quietly. “I mean, I shake hands with lots of people but it’s not the same. Surprisingly, not too many people hug their Priests.” She turns to face him, straddling his hips. “I’ll hug you anytime you want. As a matter of fact, I’ll go one step farther,” she flirts. “Anytime you need affection, you come to me. I’ll be happy to help you out.” He smiles at her and begins rubbing her arse. “I bet you will Darlin’,” he says.

They kiss, tenderly but deeply; tongues twisting together. She runs her hands up his smooth chest to this neck, then runs her fingers in his hair. She slowly begins rocking her hips, feeling his cock begin to lengthen under her. He whips her shirt off and grabs her face, kissing her again and again. She moves her mouth to his neck, kissing and nibbling on his neck, his earlobe, his collarbone, her hands on his abs. He sighs her name as he skims his hands down her back and sides, running his fingers lightly around to her pussy. She’s still grinding her hips on top of him slowly, feeling his erection through his briefs, as he begins rubbing her clit. She moans and returns her mouth to his. 

After a few moments of kissing, she sits back on her heels to grasp the waistband of his pants and carefully pull them off. When he is completely naked, she looks him over, sitting in her bed. She licks her lips as she considers sucking his cock, but considers otherwise based on the urgent need she feels in her core. She crawls up his legs and straddles him again, slowly guiding his cock inside her. She grabs his face with both hands, whispering his name and they begin moving together. She kisses him briefly, then moves her mouth back to his neck. He runs his hands through her hair then down to her tits, twisting and gently tweaking her nipples. She looks at him, moaning and he pinches one nipple a little harder. “OH,” she yells, still riding him. He does it again, this time to both nipples and at the same time lifting his hips higher to thrust his cock harder. She screams again and places her hands on the wall behind him, pushing herself down for leverage. He moans at this and picks up the pace, plunging harder each time. “Fuck,” he says, “you feel so good.” She leans down to kiss him briefly, looking in his eyes. She removes one hand from the wall behind him and begins massaging her clit. He pinches her nipples again, at the same time, they both up their pace. “Oh my God,” she yells at the same time he grunts, “Jesus, holy, ohhhhhh.” She braces her one arm against the wall, straightening her elbow and pushing her weight down on him,as he continues to pound into her. He leans forward, tweaks her nipples again as he bites (gently but not too gently) on her neck and with that she screams again, her orgasm washing over her. She leans to his ear and whispers his name. She licks his earlobe then whispers, “I love you,” and with that he explodes into her. 

*********************************

“Was that enough affection for you, Father?” she teases, snuggled in his arms. “Hah, erm,” he chuckles, “not sure it’ll ever be enough.” “Well, in your defense, you did have quite a long drought,” she says, listening to his heartbeat with her head resting on his chest. “Erm, Love, I don’t think it has anything to do with that,” he says, softly stroking her back.

They lie in bed for a while, entangled in each other’s arms. Once the sun goes down, he tells her that he needs to get back to the rectory. “I’ve been gone all day and I don’t know what I’ll say to Pam,” he debates. “Ugh,” she says, “will she ask?” He thinks for a moment, then answers, “It’s not that she’ll ask directly, but, erm, she’ll make comments about my time away.” They discuss briefly how unusual it is that Pam lives at the rectory, which does nothing to assuage his worry about a potential passive aggressive confrontation with Pam. He gets out of bed and begins gathering his clothes. As she watches him, she has to bite her lip to keep herself from suggesting that he just tell Pam to fuck off.

Abruptly changing the subject, he asks, “Can I... can I take a quick shower before I go?” She slyly smiles at this, immediately imagining shower sex. “No, no,” he laughs, “alone.” She pouts and says, “Sure, be my guest.” She lies back in bed when he turns toward the bathroom, knowing full well there is no way she is letting this opportunity pass her by.

After she hears the shower start, she slides out of bed and grabs a clean towel from the cabinet. She quietly knocks on the door then says, “I’m just bringing you a towel,” as she enters. She drops the towel and takes in the beauty of her Priest, water rushing down his back. His glorious back, his broad shoulders, his tight arse, the back of his head, HIS BEAUTIFUL NECK. She sighs, taking a mental picture of all of it. He turns to face her and she gasps at this new view. He laughs. “I knew I couldn’t trust you to stay away,” he teases as he reaches his hand out to her. 

Climbing into the tub, she takes the soap from his hands and lathers. “Well, I mean, I was gonna shower anyway,” she lies. She rubs her soapy hands down his arms and his chest as he begins lathering his hands. He massages her tits as she moves her hands to his cock, stroking slowly as his erection lengthens. He tips his head back under the shower head and moans. 

She drops to her knees in the tub, still maintaining one hand on his cock, reaching the other around to his arse to push him closer. Lightly she licks the head of his cock then looks up at him. He’s gazing down at her, water streaming down the sides of his face, his hands at his sides. Slowly, she grips the base of his cock and takes the tip in her mouth, licking and lightly sucking. She hears him exhale, then he gently places one hand on her head. She smiles, hollowing her cheeks and mouthing further down his length. “Ohhhhh,” he grunts, “Oh God.” She begins sucking in earnest then adds her hand, still at the base, moving in time together. With her hand gripping his arse, she pushes him slightly forward, forcing his length further into her mouth so that she is almost gagging. But she continues sucking, pulling, licking, as he moves his hand to the back of her head, just resting it there. “Darlin,” he says, “oh Jesus." She is thoroughly enjoying how much he is enjoying this. He moans again, then whispers, “Love, erm, you don’t.” He stutters, unable to finish his thought. She sucks her way back to the tip and removes her mouth, but continues pumping her hand. “You good, Love?” she asks with a smile. “Mmmmmhmmmm,” he says. She opens her mouth wide and loosely takes his dick back in her mouth then lightly drags her teeth to the tip. She looks up at him again and he tries to speak, to tell her she doesn’t have to, she assumes, but all he does is moan. But there is no way she is going to stop, not when she’s having this much fun. She begins sucking again, urgently this time, pumping her hand in time. Then, she removes her hand and places it on his arse opposite her other hand so she can take almost his entire length. He uses his hand on her head and begins moving her, fucking her mouth. She gasps but keeps going, never relenting on her suction. ‘Oh God,” he yells. “Oh God.” Then he says her name, letting her know he’s going to come. She drinks him in a few final times as he cums in her mouth. After, she slowly pulls off, surreptitiously spitting in the tub then returning to stand in front of him with a smile. 

He wraps his arms around her, returning her smile. “Oh, Love,” he says with a deep exhale. She kisses his cheek and tells him she loves him, hugging him back. “I love you, too,” he says, then asks, “do you, do you want…” She shakes her head and kisses his other cheek then whispers in his ear, “that was just for you.”


	13. Friends

When he finally managed to escape her place late Sunday night, they both said they would see the other soon but made no definite plans. He dropped by the cafe briefly on Tuesday morning right before opening, giving her a kiss on the cheek as she was in the kitchen, then rushing out with some coffee to go. They texted throughout the day to check in but, finally, late on Wednesday night, he calls.

“Hi,” she answers. “Hullo, Darlin’. Sorry it’s so late, just finished up a meeting,” he says. “Oh? Anything exciting,” she asks. “Erm, I’m sure not by your standards,” he chuckles.

“So, I was thinking,” he begins, “that, that maybe I could stay at yours sometime? We could have a sleepover.” She laughs, “Like you’ll bring your sleeping bag and we’ll stay up all night telling scary stories?” He laughs at the thought. “Something like that,” he says. “Well, I assure you that you don’t need a sleeping bag, Father. And yes, you can stay anytime you like,” she answers. “But what about Pam?”

He rushes, “I have a plan.” She laughs at the situation then asks after his plan. “Well, I told Pam that I made some friends. Erm, I didn’t give her specifics, and, and it’s not a total lie.” He pauses a moment then adds, “I’ll just be spending time with friends.” 

She teases him, “Father, is that all you think of me? That we’re just friends?” He laughs. “Come on, Love. What do you think? I don’t have morning mass on Saturdays, so I could come Friday. Any Friday.”

She pauses for effect, pretending she’s mulling it over. After a few moments, she finally says coolly, “Yeah, sure, of course. Fridays.” 

“Which Friday? This one?” he asks eagerly. “All of them,” she answers flirtatiously.

*********************************

On Friday, she rushes home after closing the cafe, stopping for some wine on the way. She hurries around the flat, throwing away empty food containers and cleaning up half-empty glasses. She keeps an eye on the clock as she does this, leaving time for a shower and a quick wank before his arrival. When he rings the buzzer, she is just throwing on a casual summer dress, all ready.

She opens the door with a huge smile to find her Priest carrying a grocery bag that looks like it contains flowers and dinner. “Hullo, Darlin,” he smiles as he enters, stopping to kiss her cheek as he walks past her. “Uh, hi. What’s all this?” she asks, gesturing to the bag. She follows him to the kitchen as he answers, “Well, I brought dinner for us. And wine, of course.” Then he adds, shyly, “And, erm, some flowers.” Seeing her surprised look, he adds, “I hope that’s ok.”

“Uh, well, yeah, of course,” she answers, almost embarrassed. “But I’m afraid, I don’t have a vase.” He chuckles and begins unpacking the bag. “I thought that might be the case.” He hands her the wine and asks her to open it and get dinner set on the table. He moves to the sink with the vase and flowers. After she’s set the table and poured the wine, she turns to watch him placing the flowers in the vase. Curious, she joins him, winding her arms around him from the back. “I didn’t know you were a florist before a Priest,” she teases. He places the last flower and holds the vase up to show her his work. “Hah, hardly, but I did work at a florist for a little bit. Mostly deliveries, but, erm, sometimes helping in the shop. It, it didn’t last long, like most of my former professions,” he says.

“Well, now that is not a job I would have imagined for you,” she says as they walk to the table. He places the vase in the center and takes a seat. “Erm, well, I just did whatever really, it’s not like it was a calling,” he answers with a shrug. He gestures to the opposite chair and she sits. “So, what DID you do, ya know, before your calling,” she asks, adding air quotes.

“Oh, ok, yeah, you wanna review my CV?” he teases. He picks up his wine glass and waits till she does the same to clink glasses. After they each try the wine, she says, “Well, yeah, I’m really curious about you, before all this,” she says, indicating to his throat where his collar usually is. “Erm, nothing too exciting though really,” he warns. “Mostly bartending, all sorts of different pubs, but some other jobs. I painted houses once. Worked at a deli for a while.” As they eat the take away he’s brought, he tells her of his multitude of jobs before seminary. He tells her a few stories, mostly about losing the jobs rather than the actual jobs. The floral delivery job was actually for a friend, who apparently is no longer a friend anymore. As he talks, she notices how separate he is from that former life, almost as if he is talking about someone else entirely and not just someone he used to be. He seems removed from the shame or guilt he might feel about getting fired by friends or bosses he respected because he was drunk, or picked a fight, or just stopped showing up. “Erm, yeah, I was a mess. This, being a Priest, and seminary, is the longest I’ve ever stuck with anything,” he says. “I was just always running, or, fighting, or, I don’t know, burying things…” he pauses. Quietly, he adds, “I guess that’s, erm, part of why it’s so important to me.” She nods, taking it all in, wondering what this could possibly mean for her.

“How about some more wine?” she asks as she walks to the counter to open another bottle. When she returns to the table, he grabs her hand as she is pouring his wine and pulls her into his lap. “Love, don’t, erm, don’t,” he stutters. “I mean, it’s just, well,” he sighs then continues, “you know that it’s important to me.” She sets the wine down and puts her arms around him. “I know, I know,” she says quietly, not wanting to give voice to her worries about just how important it is to him and whether she can compete with that. Abruptly, she stands and nervously adjusts her dress, then goes back to pouring wine. “It’s fine,” she says, looking away from him. “I like that it’s important to you, that you love what you do, and, and,” she pauses to face him, “that you help people.” She smiles shyly and takes her seat. Raising her glass to him, she says, “What is it? To Peace…” and then he finishes with a smile, “and those who get in the way of it.”

Anxious to change the subject before he tries to examine her feelings further, she jumps into stories about some of her jobs. They finish off another bottle of wine laughing, mostly at her stories but some of his - bad bosses, crazy customers, strange co-workers. When he pours out the last of the wine into their glasses, he says, “See? We are friends.” They both snicker. “Yeah,” she says sarcastically, “I’m exactly the kind of friend that Pam would approve of. And the Vatican for that matter.” He shakes his head with a smile and stands to begin clearing the table. “Come on,” he says with a nod, “I’ll remind you of my excellent dish-washing skills.”

He washes the dishes and she dries them and stacks them away. “Thanks for dinner,” she says when they are finished. “And the wine and flowers,” she adds. “Thanks for the company, Darlin’,” he answers, pulling her into a hug at the sink. “Should we have an after dinner drink before we get out our sleeping bags and start our scary stories,” she flirts. “Hah,” he answers, “I almost forgot about that!” He pauses, taking her face in his hands, then adds, “Thanks for letting me stay, Love.” She answers him with a kiss.

He deepens the kiss and pulls the back of her dress up with his hands, skimming her arse. Abruptly, he leans away from her kiss and squints at her in mock surprise, because he’s realized she isn’t wearing any pants. She shrugs and snickers at him. He pulls the dress over her head and stares at her naked body. Thankfully, she’s not shy because he takes a step back from her, with her dress still in his hand, to just ogle her. Then he takes her hand, shaking his head and muttering, “Oh, what am I going to do about you?” as he walks her to the bedroom.

Walking behind him the short distance to the bedroom, she begins pulling at the bottom of his shirt. When he stops at the side of the bed, she remains behind him, removing his shirt and then quickly opening his belt with her arms wrapped around him. Kissing his back and his neck, she swiftly undoes his trousers and slips her hand inside to begin stroking his cock. He leans back slightly, resting his head on her shoulder and reaching one hand up behind him to palm her head as she sucks on his neck. 

She takes her free hand and begins pushing his trousers off. He pushes the other side of his trousers down, finally kicking them and his shoes and socks off at the bottom. She pushes on his hip and turns him around to face her, then gently places her hands on his shoulders and gestures for him to get on the bed. He smiles and then lies back on the bed as she watches with a sexy smirk. She crawls onto the bed, slowly inching over his legs as she grazes her hands close to his sides. When she is over his cock, she stops, still looking at him, then slowly bends her neck, lowering her mouth. She licks the tip leisurely then takes his dick in her mouth, very gradually sucking further down. He moans and grabs her head briefly then moves one hand to her chin. “Love,” he says, “come here.” She continues with her suction for several moments until he bucks his hips and says, “Love,” quietly again. She gradually releases his cock, scraping her teeth lightly as she goes, then kisses his hips, abs, chest, neck and chin as she crawls to face him.

He smiles at her, stroking her cheek with his hand as he sighs. “You like that?” he asks curiously. She nods. “I like you,” she says, still holding herself above him on her hands and knees. He strokes his free hand down her belly to her pussy and begins rubbing. When he pushes his fingers inside her, he says quietly, “Oh, wow, yeah,” realizing how wet she already is. He pulls her face to his and they kiss intensely as he begins pumping his fingers inside her. She moans in his mouth and brushes a hand down his chest to his cock, pumping him as he her.

He kisses down her neck and angles himself down so he can suck on her tit, causing her to yell out. He does this for several moments, so that she leans down over him, her head against the bed, involuntarily fucking his hand. “Ohhhhhh,” she groans. He shimmies back up so that his head is next to hers, pausing briefly to tangle tongues. Abruptly he places both his hands under her arse, slowly pushing her body up his chest. She looks at him questioningly but says nothing, sure that he can see the shock on her face as he’s moving her up his body. She sits up as he’s pushing her and she finally comes to rest, straddled over his face, his hands on the inside of her thighs. He looks up at her and smiles. “What? I like it too,” he teases. She exhales deeply and watches as he slowly uses his fingers to gently open her up, lifting his mouth to lightly lap at her. Once he finds her clit, he is ferocious, sucking at her so that her thighs begin to shake. She sighs again, relaxing as she watches him, slowly lowering herself down so he can rest his head on the bed. Spreading herself wider, she bucks her hips and fucks his mouth while holding her tits as they bounce. “Holy shit,” she yells, still in shock but completely relishing how he makes her feel. She lets herself go, pushing her shock and anything else out of her mind and throws her head back, swearing and calling his name. After another moment, she feels her orgasm grip her and she slows her hips so it can wash over her. Her head still thrown back, she pants as it hits her. Her Priest slows his tongue, just keeping light pressure as he feels her cum. 

She looks down at him, he smiles at her. She smiles back and then scoots down his chest. She puts her hands on his face, leaning over him, wiping her thumb over his bottom lip. “Wow,” she sighs. He shrugs and grabs her face to pull her into a kiss. 

She strokes his cock as they kiss then pulls back to look at him as she guides him inside her. “Mmmmmm,” he moans. She sits back as they begin moving, keeping one hand on his chest and grazing the other hand across his neck and collarbone. They quicken their pace over the next several moments, each moaning. Placing his hands on her hips, he lifts her slightly with each pump, slamming himself harder into her each time. Again, she grabs her tits as they bounce. “Jesus,” he yelps, then lightly shakes his head. Rocking together harder with each moment, she can feel another orgasm building. He squeezes his hands on her hips, slightly digging his fingers into her flesh, crying her name. She places her hands on top of his, then says, “Come for me,” whispering his name with a smile. When she feels him let go, she releases his hands to grab his shoulders. He reaches one hand to her neck, tenderly gripping and rubbing his thumb over her collar. She throws her head back as she feels her orgasm build once again, slowing her hips. When she starts to come down, she leans into him, melting into his chest and hugging him tightly. He wraps his arms around her, holding her as their breath and heart rates return to normal. “I love you,” he whispers in her ear. She lifts her head up to look in his eyes. “I love you too,” she says.


	14. The Walk Home

Several weeks pass and they remain in a veritable bubble, sealed off from the world in her flat. Her Priest has stayed over every Friday, and walked her to the cafe Saturday mornings. They’ve spent Sundays at her flat, lounging together or each working on their own tasks. Even during the week, the Priest has occasionally stopped at the cafe right before opening or soon after close to catch up.  
On a Sunday in October, Dad calls to invite her to dinner that evening. She knows Claire and Klare are flying in that day to attend meetings on Monday, so she isn’t surprised that Godmother has organized an uncomfortable event. When her Priest arrives at her flat after mass, she tells him the news and her plan - pretend that she ran into him on the way to Dad’s and invite him along. But he refuses her suggestion, claiming how awkward and tense it will be for both of them, and for Claire, who is also aware of their secret relationship. She sulks briefly but doesn’t beg, knowing he’s right. And, she concedes, she certainly doesn’t want to share her Priest with Godmother, even if it means spending a Sunday night away from him.  
********************************  
When November begins, she receives an invitation to a soft opening for a new restaurant from one of her new friends in her women’s business group. Several members from the group have become regulars at the cafe, including Sita. Sita and her sister are opening a small restaurant near the cafe, with just a few tables and take-away serving dishes from their home country - they emigrated from the Ivory Coast.  
She reads the email aloud to her Priest and excitedly tells him about helping Sita to find some food vendors. “It’s next Sunday,” she tells him. “Will you come with me?” she asks. She explains that the evening is meant for just a few friends from the women’s group and their guests, to test out the food and service before the grand opening.  
He looks at her as they sit snuggled on the couch, pausing to think. “Please,” she adds. “There are only four people on this email, so what are the chances that anyone from St. Ethelred’s will be there?”  
He sighs and drags a hand over his face. “I don’t know,” he says. She reads him the names of the others invited and he shakes his head to each. “See? We’re safe. No parishioners,” she pleads.  
“How will we, erm, present ourselves?” he asks her. “However you want,” she answers quickly. “We can be friends, you can be my Priest, or we can go, uh,” she pauses briefly, then adds, “as a couple.” He smirks at her and she shrugs her shoulders with a laugh.  
“Come on, it’ll be nice to get out of this shitty flat,” she implores again. “I’ll even bring your favorite wine,” she adds, not having any idea what his favorite wine might be.  
He laughs then leans over to kiss her cheek. “Ok,” he says. She smiles at him. “But let’s go just as friends, ok?” he counters. “Ok, Father,” she teases, “I promise to be on my best behavior.”  
********************************  
As they walk to the cafe Sunday afternoon, she explains who will be there and what types of businesses they run. She’s excited to introduce him to Sarah, who runs a small vintage clothing shop. She describes Sarah’s cool sense of style, her foul mouth, and dark sense of humor that attracted her to ask Sarah for drinks after a meeting once. Since then, they’ve made it a monthly night out after meetings, getting to know each other better.  
When they arrive, a young girl takes their coats. Sita comes to the doors, welcoming her with a hug and introducing her niece. They exchange introductions with Sita’s sister and her Priest, then Sita proudly shows them around the small space. Sita pours them each a glass of wine and hurries off to the kitchen to help her sister finish up the food. The other guests from the women’s group are introduced to her Priest - Tina and her husband Bill, who retired from their corporate jobs and run a used book store together, and Alice, who has her own small accounting firm. Sarah arrives with her girlfriend Neithy. She introduces her Priest and when Neithy asks in her Irish accent what he does, he manages to avoid answering, overcome with excitement to meet a fellow Irish ex-pat.  
She and Sarah laugh at their guests' commonality, leaving them to dish about Dublin. She shows Sarah to the side table for drinks. “So, who’s the hottie,” Sarah teases, nodding her head back to the Priest. “You didn’t tell me you were bringing a date,” she adds. They laugh and look over at the Priest and Neithy, comparing locations throughout Ireland where they’ve lived or visited. She answers Sarah quietly, “he's just a friend, not a date,” elbowing her new friend. Sarah laughs and catches her look, determined to ask more about this later.  
As she and Sarah join their guests, Sita and her sister emerge from the kitchen. Sita, whose English is a little better than her sister’s, explains how normally, in their culture, they would eat on a mat on the floor. To honor that, there are mats hanging above each small table in the room. They drink wine while Sita shares stories about her family and explains the recipes they are about to try. They push the tables together, joining all as one long table. Once the food is served, everyone sits down together, her Priest by her side.  
Conversation flows easily throughout the group as they eat several amazing dishes - West African recipes blended with British style. Careful to stay on her best behavior, she keeps a few centimeters between her Priest’s chair and hers. She momentarily listens in on his conversation with Bill, marveling at his ease talking to anyone.  
When everyone has finished eating, Sita opens a few more bottles of wine. Bill refills all the glasses. As he does, he asks her Priest, “So, what do you do?” Of course, this happens just as there is a lull in the conversation, with everyone waiting for a refill. She stifles her worry and waits with everyone to hear his answer. He laughs as he raises his glass for Bill to fill and confidently answers, “Well, I’m a Priest.” She laughs as the table looks at him in surprise and then at her. Sarah tries to catch her eye and kicks her lightly under the table.  
He becomes the center of attention with Bill, Tina, and Alice asking about his church and religion, while Sarah grabs her elbow and whispers, “a Priest?” She laughs again, answering her friend with a shrug, “I told you, he’s not a date.”  
Soon after, Tina, Bill, and Alice take their leave, sharing a cab. Sita and her sister clean up the dishes. Neithy once again has her Priest’s attention, discussing Ireland’s marriage referendum from a few years prior. Sarah says quietly, “Listen, you know men don’t normally catch my attention, but, this guy...I get it.” Sarah winks at her then leans in closer and says, “So, tell me, you’ve defrocked him, right?” 

She looks over at her Priest, admiring his profile and the animation in his eyes as he talks with Neithy. She looks back at Sarah with a smile and shrugs. She stands and excuses herself from the table, walking to find Sita in the tiny kitchen. She offers her thanks to Sita for the invitation and they hug. When she returns to the table, her Priest is standing, waiting with their coats.

“Ready to go,” he asks. She nods and he slips her coat on her shoulders. They hug Sarah and Neithy and again say their goodbyes to Sita and her family.

********************************  
“I’ll walk you home,” he says once they are outside. “Thanks,” she answers as they start their walk.  
“Your friends are nice,” he says. “I had a great time. Thanks for taking me,” he adds somewhat shyly. She takes his hand in hers and says, “thanks for coming with me.”  
They walk hand in hand for a while without talking. She thinks over the evening, how well he fit in and how nice it was to go out with him. She thought about Sarah and her questions, quelching her guilt for being stand-offish by committing to explain to her friend next time they see each other.  
About a block from her flat, her Priest drops her hand as they walk. She looks at him, but he is looking ahead at a couple walking toward them. She can sense his anxiety, so she widens the space between them slightly.  
As they get closer to the couple, she sees a friendly-looking man and woman in their mid-to late-fifties. The woman waves and says, “Oh, Father, Hi,” as they meet. He fidgets his left hand but gently reaches out his right hand to her.  
“Oh, hullo Mrs. Clarke,” he smiles. He then turns to the man and says, “Mr. Clarke” as they shake hands. “What brings you out so late at night?” She can barely hear Mrs. Clarke answer, something about her daughter, as her mind races - should she keep walking and just leave him, should she say something. Fuck, fuck, fuck, she thinks as she stands there silently while Mr. Clarke stares at her oddly.  
The Priest looks at her and stutters a bit. She realizes that Mrs. Clarke must have asked what they were up to. “Erm, well, we were, er,” he stammers then turns back to Mrs. Clarke and says, “I was out for a bite with my friend here.” He pauses then adds quickly, “Hah, for my, erm, next review.” He doesn’t introduce her and she awkwardly stands there trying to hide her worry. Thankfully, Mrs. Clarke is a talker and doesn’t seem to notice her much, just goes on about her evening some more. Finally, Mr. Clarke reaches for his wife’s elbow and says, “Ok, Janine, it’s time to go,” and gently drags her past them as her Priest rushes to say goodbye.  
They stare at each other for a moment, completely silent, then turn and begin walking again. He’s practically running and she hurries to keep up with him. “I’m sorry,” she says, not knowing what else to say and unable to read his emotions with him a few steps ahead of her.  
He arrives at the door of her flat before her and stands there panting, with his hands over his face. She quickly unlocks the door and they both rush inside. She sets her keys down and hangs her coat and he begins pacing. Worried, she stands and watches him, waiting for a cue as to what she should do or say.  
“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t,” he mutters as he paces. She takes a step toward him and quietly says, “It’s fine. Nothing happened. She barely noticed me.” He stops pacing and faces her, dragging his hands through his hair and sighing. “It’s not, I can’t,” he stutters. Then he growls, “gahhhhhh, I hate myself.”  
She blanches and takes a step back. He turns away from her but she lunges toward him, grabbing his shoulders and turning him around. “Don’t say that,” she pleads. Then she repeats louder, “Don’t say that! This is ridiculous. Hate the antiquated rules! Hate the system!” Then she practically shouts, “Don’t hate yourself!”  
She drops her hands from his shoulders. He takes a deep breath and walks to the couch. “It’s not that,” he says.  
She walks over and stands in front of him. “What is it? What,” she asks. Then she grabs his hands and says quietly, “don’t beat yourself up like this.”  
He flops onto the sofa and she sits beside him. He looks at her and says, “Please don’t think I’m ashamed of you.” He exhales and places a hand on her cheek. “I’m not. I’m not ashamed of you at all,” he says. “It’s, it’s that I’m ashamed of breaking my vows.” He drops his hand and mutters quietly, “It’s me, I can’t, I just….” He looks down and remains silent.  
After a few moments, she stands and begins pacing. She’s frustrated. How can someone so wonderful hate himself? All he does is help people, why can’t he have one thing, why can’t he just love her AND God, she thinks. She stops and looks at him, his head in his hands.  
“I think you should go,” she says quietly. He looks up at her, confused. “I think you should go,” she says again. “I love you, but I’m not going to force this on you. It’s hard enough to do this, have this, uh, secret, but I’m not going to keep doing this,” she pauses and gestures between them “if it means you hate yourself. It doesn’t make sense. It’s, it’s just not right,” she finishes with a sigh.  
He drags a hand over his face then asks, “What? Erm, really?” She stares at him and after a moment, nods and quietly answers, “Yes, I’m not gonna be a part of you, you hating yourself. I can’t.” He stands and walks to the door. He pauses for a moment, watching her, waiting to see if she stops him. Finally, he shakes his head and says, “ok.” He opens the door, looks at her once more to say “goodbye,” then leaves.


	15. The Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know no one wants them to fight, but don't worry! It's over before it even begins.

After he leaves, she locks the door then walks to the kitchen for some water. She leans her hands on the kitchen counter, hanging her head down. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” she says aloud. She reviews their entire conversation, thinking it through again. She wonders, why is he so hard on himself? That woman - Mrs. Clarke - barely even noticed my existence, she rationalizes. Even if Mr. Clarke noticed her, he doesn’t seem like a gossip, and what were they doing that was so bad anyway. “Argh,” she sighs. She can’t understand why he would say that he hates himself.  
She takes her water to the bedroom and begins changing into a t-shirt and joggers, continuing to mull over the events of the past hour. She looks at her mum’s statue and says, “I can’t let him hate himself.” She flops on her bed with a sigh.  
The buzzer sounds. She sits up, confused. The buzzer goes again. She rushes to her door, unlocking and opening it quickly. Her Priest is leaning against the frame of her door, looking at her with sad puppy dog eyes. She smirks at him and grabs his chin between her thumb and forefinger.  
“Did you even leave?” she asks him. He shrugs and stands up straight, then runs a hand through his hair. He breathes deeply then says quietly, “No.” He shakes his head then asks, “Er, can we talk about this please?”  
She opens the door all the way and steps aside so he can enter. She closes the door and follows him into the flat, unsure what to say. He turns to face her and whispers, “I’m sorry.” She walks to him and he grabs her hands, rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles like he always does. He exhales deeply and continues, “Love, I’m so sorry. Erm, I’m just not used to this. I just, I just feel like... er, I don’t want to let my congregation down.” He takes a step closer to her, running a hand over her cheek. “But, I, oh, I don’t know,” he stammers then goes silent.  
She squeezes his hand and says, “Listen, I just can’t watch you beat yourself up like that. I, uh, well...” She pauses then continues, “I don’t want you to feel about us... the way I, I felt about Boo.” She sighs then adds quietly, “I just don’t like when you say you hate yourself.” He drops his hand from her cheek and she grabs both his arms. “Please, please just don’t...I mean, you deserve to be happy, and, and, who are we hurting?” she adds. Stepping closer to him so they are chest to chest, she asserts, “Besides, your Mrs. Clarke hardly even noticed I was there.” She smiles at him and teases, “She was too busy telling you her life story.”  
He snickers and pulls her into a hug, kissing her lightly on her cheek. “Boy, do I know how to ruin a nice night or what,” he laughs. She chuckles and says, “we make quite a pair.” Pulling slightly out of their hug so he can look in her eyes, he says, “Love, I’m sorry. It was such a nice night, well, until, hah, I made a mess of it.” Placing both hands on her cheeks, he whispers, “I’ll do better next time,” then kisses her lips lightly. She sighs gratefully and smiles at him. “I love you,” she confides. “I love you too,” he says. Then he jokes, “but maybe next time we don’t hold hands in public?” They both chuckle and he shakes his head.  
He leans in and kisses her tenderly. “Did we just have our first fight,” she teases. He laughs lightly and shrugs, “I don’t know, I, I guess so.” She shakes her head with a laugh and chides, “Well, I don’t know what the fuck that was, but...” She grabs his face and kisses him hard, as she quickly tears his coat off and drops it to the floor.  
He leans back a little to look at her and smirks at the intensity in her eyes. She reaches for the bottom of his jumper and yanks it, along with his t-shirt, over his head. She tilts her mouth to his ear and whispers, “catch up,” then bites him just under where his jaw meets his neck as she scratches her nails down his chest and abs. He grabs her face with both his hands, pausing to look in her eyes for a brief moment, then kisses her ferociously. When he moves to nibble on her neck, she throws her head back and quietly sighs, “finally.”  
She deftly opens his belt and trousers, hurriedly reaching for his cock, but he grabs both her hands to stop her. He returns to her mouth, kissing her savagely while he pushes her against the wall behind her. He brings their arms up and holds her hands above her. Maintaining his grasp on her wrists with one hand, he grazes his other hand down her arm lightly then the side of her face as they continue kissing. When his thumb reaches her chin, he pulls away to look, meeting her intense passionate look as she writhes her hips against his.  
He reaches his hand in her joggers, immediately pushing two fingers into her incredibly wet pussy. She moans and tilts her face toward him, trying to bite his plush lower lip. He smiles at her, pushing his body against her and slipping another finger inside her, pumping his hand hard and searching for her clit with his thumb. He twists his head down and places his mouth over her tit, nipping her nipple with his teeth through her t-shirt. She moans, but can do nothing more with his strong arms holding her in place, hands still above her head.  
He bites at the fabric of her shirt, jerking his head to bring it up higher and somehow manages to work his tongue to her bare skin. He begins sucking at her nipple, still fucking her with his hand. Finally he lets go of her hands, pulling her shirt over her head and moving his mouth to her other tit. She pushes at his open trousers, managing to swiftly force them down his thighs a little so she can stroke his hard cock. He nibbles and kisses up to her neck then faces her, breathing hard. He pulls one side of her joggers and she works the other with her free hand, shimmying her feet out when they reach the floor. He kisses her again wildly. He lifts her leg with his free arm and slides his fingers out of her, interrupting their kiss momentarily to look in her eyes before driving his cock into her.   
They both curse as he begins thrusting immediately without constraint. She drags her nails down his back then digs them into his arse, pushing their hips together harder. Holding her leg with one hand, he braces the other on the wall behind her while sucking on her neck and her tits. “Jesus, fuck,” she yells as he dives into her unrelentingly. He looks up at her, heat and ecstasy obvious in his eyes, then wraps both his arms around her. Hugging her body in tight, he lifts her fully off the floor with ease and she quickly wraps her long legs around his waist.  
Supporting her weight, he carries her to the chair, collapsing down and helping her unwrap her legs and straddle him. They begin fucking with abandon, moaning, gasping, grabbing, biting. She finally grabs ahold of his bottom lip with her teeth then sucks on it, as she scratches her nails across his chest.. He grabs her hips and slams her down with each thrust. He cries out as he orgasms, quickly moving his hands to her nipples and squeezing. And that’s all it takes for her to come too. After they catch their breath, they kiss softly and he laughs, “Erm, we should fight more often.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading. There are a few more chapters kicking around in my head. I hope you are enjoying! Keep those comments coming!


	16. Therapy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the sadness. Our girl is struggling.

A few days later she has her regular appointment with her therapist. She’s almost cancelled several times. She knows that examining her feelings about what happened after Sita’s dinner is going to suck. She knows how her therapist’s inscrutable looks lay her feelings out nakedly and, while sometimes this makes her feel stronger, she senses this examination might hurt. She already talked to Claire about what happened and she could feel her rolling her eyes the entire time she relayed the events. Happily though, she was not too hard on her Priest; Claire must have been preoccupied not to jump at a chance to chastise him.  
Sitting in the wingback chair in her therapist’s office, watching her counselor moisturize her forearms, she frowns with anxiety. She jumps right in re-telling the evening’s events while her therapist listens and occasionally takes notes. When she’s finished, she exhales deeply and awaits the inquisition.  
“So, how did you feel when you and the Priest were at dinner with your friends?” her therapist starts. Oh, an easy question, she thinks with a smirk. “I mean, normal almost, happy. It was just so easy with everyone and... comfortable, I guess.” Her therapist nods and then asks, “And how about when you met the couple on the street?”  
She leans her head back further into the chair and involuntarily tightens her stomach muscles. Her therapist patiently waits for the answer. “Well, I was worried. Anxious even. I didn’t know what to do and I didn’t know how he would react. But, but then I was also rationalizing that we weren’t doing anything wrong. I mean, it’s not like we were snogging in the middle of the street!” she answers with a huff.  
Her therapist nods. She knows she didn’t properly answer the question. She isn’t following the rules here, just answering what was going through her head is not the entire story. Finally her therapist says, “And?”  
She sighs and quietly answers, “Small. It made me feel small.” Her therapist scribbles a note on her pad and waits. “I didn’t like it. We, er, I have nothing to be ashamed of.” She fidgets her hands in her lap then adds, “He said he’s not ashamed of me. It’s what HE’S done that he’s ashamed of. Not me.” Again, the therapist says nothing and just waits. After several seconds, her therapist asks, “And what about back at your flat, when you argued?”  
As usual, she feels the need to defend her Priest. “Well, I mean, it wasn’t so much an argument.” She pauses, knowing, again, that she’s avoiding the question. She rushes out, “I hated it. I hated every second of it. He said he hates himself. HE HATES HIMSELF! I mean, I can’t live with that! Here’s this, this fucking amazing man, doing all these loving and caring things for everyone and, yet, by being with me...ME...he says he hates himself.” She looks down at her hands and tries to pull herself together. She doesn’t want to cry, even though she’s certainly cried with her therapist before.   
Her therapist says, “And do you think that’s your fault?” She thinks a moment and says, “No, actually. I WAS blaming myself, or just, I don’t know, feeling so bad for him. But, no, it’s not my fault.” With that she releases a little tension she’s been holding in her jaw.   
“And?” her therapist asks. She shakes her head and tears start to fall. “No,” she says. “No, I don’t want to face it,” she says quietly as she quickly wipes the tears from her face with her hand. Her therapist just waits. Finally she sighs and says, “I know this isn’t sustainable. I know.” She sniffles a little and fidgets some more then continues, “I know I can’t accept a life like this forever. But I just keep telling myself that I never wanted a normal life,” she pauses for air-quotes. “And a relationship with a Priest is anything but normal!” she almost laughs. She inhales deeply and continues, “You’re right. Now that I feel love, I WANT normal. I want him to give up the church and choose me,” adding loudly, “for fuck’s sake!!!”  
“But hasn’t he told you that he won’t do that?” her therapist asks calmly. She nods and tears start to fall again. They sit in silence for several moments while she privately examines her feelings. Finally she says, “I’m not ready. I know I have to be the strong one, but I’m not ready to give him up yet. I’m just not.” Again, her therapist nods and takes a note, then announces the end of their session.  
On her walk to the cafe, she tries to pull herself together with little success. She’s back on the rollercoaster and this time she sees the end of the ride, where she either gets off or goes around again. When she arrives at the cafe, Meg is already there setting up, so she excuses herself to the back. She finds an old bottle of bourbon and takes a swig then sits behind her desk to try to pull herself together. After distracting herself with Facebook for a few minutes, she can feel the bourbon working its way warmly through her body. She sighs and rubs her neck a little, letting herself settle.  
“Erm, hi Love,” she hears her Priest say from the doorway. She can’t help but smile. She stands and turns toward him slowly, trying to hide away any remaining sadness. He walks to her quickly with his arms open, pulling her into a tight hug. She sighs into his neck and manages to stave off anymore tears. He kisses her cheek and rubs her back.   
“You ok, Love?” he mumbles in her neck. She takes a deep breath and leans back to look at him. “Yeah,” she smiles. “All good.” She pulls out of their hug and turns back to her desk to fidget with her phone, pulling her thoughts together for a moment.   
“You sure?” he asks. She turns back to him and smiles. “Yeah, really, truly. Especially now that you’re here,” she answers. She walks back to him and grabs his hands. He rubs his thumbs over her hands like always and tries to read her face. She looks at him and this time she’s pulled herself together. “So, you’ve come for tea and a scone?” she asks with a wink.   
He smiles, letting himself believe her lie. “Actually, I’m off for some sick visits, so can I get a half dozen wrapped separately to take?” he asks. “Of course,” she says. She pauses, looking at him and letting herself feel his love. She leans in and kisses him quickly on the mouth. “I love you,” she whispers. He smiles and answers, “I love you too. You sure you’re ok?”  
She drops his hands and quickly says, “Yes, I’m fine,” as she begins walking to the front of the cafe and packing up his order. He follows her, watching, trying to determine if she truly is ok, but customers have started arriving and he has his first appointment in 15 minutes, so when she hands him the bag, he says thanks and rushes out.  
That evening, at home with some wine and stupid telly, she resolves to push her feelings down but the wine and the love story are not helping her situation. When Claire texts to ask how she’s doing, she smiles and suddenly misses her sister. Spontaneously, she texts her back -   
Me: OK   
Me: I’m ready to come visit Finland  
Claire: Cool. When? I’ll book it right now before you change your mind.  
She smiles at her sister’s rarely seen enthusiasm. She quickly calls Meg and makes arrangements excitedly.  
Me: Just cleared it with Meg, I can come tomorrow if that’s ok?  
Claire: ANYTIME  
Claire: I’m looking at flights now, I’ll call you with flight times in a few minutes.


	17. Finland

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are coming to the end here, only a few more chapters. Claire and Klare for this one!!!

Wednesday morning, she wakes and packs quickly, then rushes to the cafe to go over a few things with Meg. Her Priest doesn’t drop by before she leaves for the airport, which is just as well, because, for reasons that she doesn’t want to examine, she doesn’t want to tell him she’s going. Claire bought her a return ticket home for Sunday so she will have to tell him by Friday before he normally turns up at hers.  
Once she boards the plane - business class (thank you Claire!) - she immediately orders some wine to calm her nerves. She doesn’t mind flying, it’s the running away that’s making her nervous. When she lands in Helsinki, she turns her phone on to pull up Claire’s address and sees several missed calls and a text from her Priest. Her stomach clenches as she opens the Messages app to read while waiting to get off the plane.  
Father: I stopped by tonight and Meg said you went to Finland. I’m worried. Please call me.  
She sighs and sits back, trying to figure out what she’s going to say. Once she hails a cab and tells the driver the address, she quickly texts Claire that she’s on her way and then calls her Priest.  
“Hullo?” he answers. “Hi,” she says quietly. Neither say anything for several seconds, waiting for the other to start. Finally, she gathers her nerve and rushes out, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just made the plans last night and...and...I don’t know why I was, er, am nervous to tell you.” She pauses but he says nothing. “I guess I just need some time to think and Claire’s been bugging me to come...” (ok, that’s an exaggeration and now she feels another pang of guilt).  
She hears him sigh then quietly say, “ok.” She can hear him take a sip of something and set his glass down. “Is this, is this because of, erm, what happened after Sita’s? Because of what I said?” he asks.  
She takes a deep breath and whispers, “No.” Then she says, “well, sort of, yes, I guess. I don’t know, I mean, I just need to think.” Originally, she was grateful for those few glasses of wine she had on the plane to calm her nerves, now she’s cursing them for making it difficult for her to contain her emotions. She doesn’t want to cry in a fucking cab in fucking Finland!  
“OK...ok,” he says. “When will you be home,” he asks nervously. “Sunday,” she answers. “Ok,” he says again. “I guess, just, erm, just let me know that you make it home safely and...and when you’re ready to talk,” he says. Then he adds, “Tell Claire I said hi.” She smiles at this and says goodbye.  
***************************************  
Of course, Claire and Klare live in a gorgeous, posh flat that Claire apologizes for and explains as “only temporary.” They welcome her with delicious food and wine and tuck her into a comfortable if small guest room for her stay. She sleeps late on Thursday due to the time change and Claire and Klare have already left for the office. Klare has left her a note with instructions on coffee and they both promise to be home at a decent time for dinner. Claire has taken Friday off to spend the day with her sister and then all three of them plan to explore the city on Saturday. So she has today to relax, at least partially, on her own.  
She makes herself some coffee and snoops around the flat a little, taking in Klare’s style mixed in with pieces that Claire brought from London. Of course, she examines the contents in the bathroom and all the closets, finding an old jumper of their mum’s that Claire saved. She pulls it on and crawls into bed with her phone.  
She receives an email notification alerting her to the ticket delivery arriving at her flat in London - her Priest’s Christmas present. She’s never been a planner, but when she saw that Brene Brown was speaking in London in January, she knew it would be the perfect gift for him. He’s always saying how much he loves her. Now, she frowns, wondering if he would even risk another public outing with her. They had discussed events or locations that they would like to visit together but always in a vague way, never with any specific date or timing. They’d just say “yeah, someday,” and move on.   
***************************************  
That evening, the three of them enjoy dinner (Klare cooks!) and wine. Her sister flits around the kitchen, never sitting still until she finishes her first glass of wine, which appears to help her relax. While she and Claire clean up from dinner, the buzzer rings and Klare goes to answer the door. When he returns to the kitchen, he’s holding a large legal envelope and wearing a huge smile.   
When Claire turns to him, he says, “It’s here, Darlin’.” Claire rushes to him and opens the package, removing a packet of papers that she promptly hugs to her chest and then hugs and kisses Klare. Claire turns to her and exclaims teary-eyed that it’s the final, signed divorce papers from Martin. She smiles and rushes to hug her sister, then Klare laughs, says something in Finnish and wraps his arms around the sisters.  
Pulling away, she wipes her eyes with her hands and says, “Well, let’s celebrate! Do you have champagne?” Claire puts the papers back in the envelope while Klare points to the champagne and flutes. Claire and Klare hug again while she excuses herself to the other side of the kitchen to the wine fridge to select a bottle of champagne.  
After she grabs the champagne flutes and the bottle, she returns to the kitchen table to find they’ve moved to the living room where Klare is on one knee, holding Claire’s hand. She stays in the kitchen and watches the impromptu proposal, letting them have their moment while she fills the glasses. Once Klare returns to standing, he and Claire hug and kiss. She is ecstatic seeing how happy her sister is, tearing up watching them. They call her into the living room and she brings each a glass of champagne to toast to love.  
A few moments later, Klare excuses himself to the bedroom and she pulls Claire into a hug and congratulates her. When Klare returns, he’s holding a small jewelry box with Claire’s ring - one that they have, of course, already picked out together. He slips the elegant diamond on her sister’s finger and they share another group hug.   
***************************************  
Friday is a bit of a slow start after finishing off two bottles of champagne the night before. She and Claire eventually make it out for a late lunch, where they finally get to catch up.  
They eat lunch and have some drinks, talking about the cafe and Dad and Godmother. When lunch is cleared, Claire orders them another round and starts “So, did that arsehole break your heart?” She chuckles and shakes her head, thankful that her sister isn’t one to beat around the bush.  
“No, no,” she answers his sister. “He didn’t do anything, well, I mean, not since I told you about Sita’s dinner. It’s just, I don’t know.” She pauses while the server delivers their drinks. She begins again, more assertively. “Actually, no, I do know. I want more. More from him, more from us. I didn’t know that I would feel this way. I didn’t know. I never thought I wanted anything normal, but now, I do, and, uh, I don’t know... He’s already told me he won’t leave the church. And, so, I can’t just TELL him that I’ve changed my mind. I mean, I’m not going to make him leave the church, he’ll hate me AND himself. I just, I got myself in this mess and, and now, I don’t know what to do.”   
They both take a sip of their drinks and Claire waits. “I shouldn’t have asked him to go to Sita’s. If I’d let it be, I’d never EVEN have realized this and I wouldn’t be here wondering if I can squash my feelings,” she pauses and takes a deep breath. She quietly adds, “or if I have to be the strong one and walk away.”  
Claire remains silent for a few moments then says, “If it hadn’t been Sita’s, it would have been something else. It’s ok to want something...normal, as you call it, although I don’t think anything you ever do is normal.” They both laugh lightly. Claire continues, “I don’t know what to tell you, but I know that you deserve more than what he is giving you.”  
The rest of the weekend is a blur of exploring the city with Klare and Claire. She is grateful for the distraction and loves the time with her sister. She really gets to know Klare, a completely lovable dork who totally worships her sister. And, although she is a little jealous, mostly it makes her so happy to know that Claire has him.   
Before she leaves for the airport on Sunday, Claire spends a few minutes in the guest room with her as she packs. “So, do you know what you’re going to do about your Priest?” she asks. She shakes her head and returns mum’s jumper to Claire. Then she says, “No. I don’t know. I want to pretend that the whole thing never happened and go back to our secret bubble. But I don’t know if I can…” Claire nods and helps to zip up her suitcase then stands and gives her a hug, a really tight hug like their mum used to give. Then Claire says, “Just take care of yourself. Come back anytime. And, call or text.” She thanks them both for the hospitality and heads home.


	18. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies in advance for the very sad chapter, this was wrenching to write.....
> 
> Epilogue coming soon!!!  
> Thanks for reading!

When she lands at the airport, she texts her Priest to let him know that she’s landed safely and asks him to meet at her flat. As the cab pulls up, she sees him waiting on her stoop even though it’s cold and drizzling and he has a key. He meets her at the cab door to take her luggage while she pays the driver.  
Once inside, she picks up all the mail from the past few days, seeing the ticket package and setting it on top. He carries her luggage into her bedroom while she shrugs off her heavy parka. They meet in the kitchen where she pours them both some bourbon.  
Her Priest takes note of the glasses, then walks slowly toward her. She says nothing, just hands him a bourbon. They clink glasses and he watches as she slugs it down, then he does the same.  
“How was Finland,” he asks quietly. She sets her glass down and refills it while she answers, “Lovely. She’s so happy. Klare, male Klare, is great.” She pauses to fill his glass and adds, “Their place is really nice and I loved the city.” She glugs the bourbon down without looking at him, but he leaves his glass on the counter. He leans back on the counter and says, “Good, I’m glad you had a nice time.”  
He turns to face her, each with a side leaning on the counter, and he lightly brushes her hand, but doesn’t grab it. Looking at her hand, he says shyly, “I missed you.” She looks at him for a moment, grateful that he isn’t looking in her eyes, so she can give the bourbon some time to work while she admires his features. “I missed you too,” she finally says. She sighs and adds, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was going. I, I shouldn’t have done that. I should have told you....It was just, uh, spontaneous.”  
He looks at her and meets her eyes. “Did you get time to think?” he asks. She nods. “Do you want to tell me about it?” he asks. She shakes her head then adds, “No, I’m, I’m not ready...I don’t...I can’t…” He nods, feigning understanding, and brushes her hand again. This time, she grabs hold of his hand and watches as his thumb strokes the top of her hand like always. She sighs and moves a little closer to him, looking into his eyes. “You can tell me anything, Love,” he pleads softly. She leans into his body and he pulls her into a hug, rubbing her back. She nuzzles into his neck and says quietly, “Not yet, I’m not ready yet.” This time, she thinks he must understand what she’s saying because she inhales so deeply that her breath stutters, trying to stop tears from falling.  
They stand there for several moments in silence, he continues rubbing her back, her arms tight under his. She commits to memory the feel of his arms around her, his stubble tickling her neck, his scent, his hair, all of it. She knows she has to tell him that she wants more, but she isn’t ready to walk away. Part of her still hopes that he will choose her but she sends that thought to the back of her mind, knowing it’s not likely and, more importantly, willing herself not to ask him to choose.  
She pulls out of their hug and looks at him. She places both hands on his face and says, “Can we just...can we just pretend that...that it’s all ok?” He nods and whispers, “Whatever you want, Love.” She smiles and kisses him, slowly and tenderly, moving her hands into his hair as she opens her mouth and they deepen the kiss. They continue kissing like this for several moments until she pulls away and takes hold of his hand to walk to the bedroom.

In the bedroom, she helps him out of his coat and they tenderly kiss. Slowly, they undress each other. As she does, she tries to freeze each moment in her mind to remember. She slowly skims her fingertips down his chest, watching as she does. She licks her lips after they’ve removed his pants and trousers, taking in the sight of his cock hungry for her. She barely notices as he undresses her, she’s so focused on him. Each movement he makes she thinks, “the last time I inhale the scent of his neck, the last time I feel the soft hair at the back of his head, the last time his thumb strokes my face, the last time….”

She doesn’t know where it comes from, but she whispers, “make love to me.” He smiles, then kisses her and helps her onto the bed. He crawls on top of her and kisses her neck. He slowly grazes a hand down her body and rubs her pussy. She moans and grabs his head, pulling him back into a kiss. “Please,” she whispers. He looks in her eyes then guides his cock into her gently and they kiss again. Leisurely, he begins moving inside her, pumping unhurriedly as he moves his mouth back to her neck. 

After a few moments, he lifts his head to look at her and finds her crying. He immediately stops, pushing up on his arms and says, “Love, what’s wrong?” She shakes her head and tries to stop her tears with her hands. “Sorry,” she says. He pushes off of her and lies next to her. “You’ve got to talk to me,” he implores. She inhales deeply and turns on her side to face him. “I’m sorry, I thought I could...pretend, I guess,” she says. He grazes her face with his hand and leans in to kiss her forehead. She smiles and says, “Claire got engaged. The divorce papers came through while I was there and Klare proposed right then and there. It was...well, I’m happy for her.”

He begins tracing his fingers down her arm. At the same time, he asks, “That’s it?”, she whispers, “that’s not all.” He drops his hand and places it in between them. “Oh,” he says. She places her hand on top of his and inhales deeply, trying to gather her strength. After a moment, she starts, “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t go on in secret. I’m sorry.” He exhales the breath he didn’t realize he was holding and rolls onto his back. He rubs his face with his hands and says to the ceiling, “I’m so sorry I fucked this all up. I didn’t mean it. I, I...I didn’t mean to put that burden on you.” He turns back to her and continues, “It’s not your fault, I should have never said that, that...” He exhales and adds, “Fuck.”

She sits up so she can look at him, holding the sheets over her breasts. She grabs his hand and says, “That’s not it. I... I... something’s changed. I’ve changed. I thought this would be enough, but, but,” she looks down and waits a beat. “I want more,” she finishes finally. This is the most adult conversation she’s ever had and she hates the entire thing. She hates hurting him, she hates hurting herself. And deep down, she’s screaming, “pick me! Please fucking pick me!”

He sits up and wraps his arms around her. After a few moments, he says, “I thought we’d have more time.” She leans back and looks at him, confused. “I knew, well, I thought this might happen. You’re you, and you’re young, and, and, you could have anybody you want...and I’m selfishly wasting your time.”

She grabs his face with both hands and says, “Never, I’m here because I love you. I love you.” He shakes his head and murmurs, “but it’s not enough?” She starts to cry and shakes her head no. He blows out his breath and begins to get up from the bed. He mumbles something about getting a drink as he throws on his boxer briefs. 

When he’s out of the bed, she scrambles quickly to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She looks in the mirror at her tear-stained face and wants to scream, “Pick me, just, please pick me.” She washes her face then goes to the bathroom, stopping to sniff her favorite candle. The scent calms her slightly, so she decides on a bath with the matching bath oil.

As she’s filling the tub, her Priest knocks on the door. “Love? You ok?” he asks through the door. She opens the door a crack and he hands her a glass of water. “Here, I thought you might want some,” he says. She smiles and opens the door the rest of the way, showing him the water running in the tub. He leans on the doorway and says, “want me to go?” She shakes her head and answers, “no, baths calms me. Care to join?” He doesn’t answer, just smiles and walks into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

She gestures for him to get in first, so he strips down and gently steps in while holding her hand. “Jesus, are you trying to burn me alive?” he says. She laughs, “Hah, no, I like it really hot. You’ll get used to it.” Once he’s standing in the tub, he cups his cock and looks at her, “Fuck, really? This is scalding. Are you trying to castrate me?” She laughs loudly and turns on the cold tap. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think it was THAT hot,” she answers, still laughing. 

After a moment, he sits in the tub. She kneels at the side and puts her hands in the water, lightly running water on his chest. Kissing his cheek, she teases, “Is the water ok now, baby?” He laughs and splashes water on her lightly. She leans over and turns the tap off, then eases into the tub, facing away from him and leaning against his chest.

They sit like this in silence for several minutes, with his legs and arms wrapped around her and her head against his shoulder. She can slowly feel some tension ease from her shoulders. He brings a hand up to her head and brushes her hair back, then breaks the silence with a long sigh. “So, so this is it, huh?” he asks. She takes a deep breath in and holds it, words screaming in her head, “not if you pick me!!!!” She exhales but doesn’t answer, afraid of what she might say. She pleads with herself to give voice to that option, to turn around and ask him, beg him even. But she knows that isn’t fair and she’s afraid he would say yes then regret it, and she doesn’t want to live with that. Once again, she pictures herself on the rollercoaster, this time she’s in the seat beside him but they are coming into the station and she knows she has to get off. When she’s able to speak, she stutters, “I, I didn’t know that I would, uh, feel this way.” She turns her head and kisses his stubble. “I never really pictured myself wanting to get married or, or, just any of that.” She sits up and turns around to face him, leaning against the other side of the tub. “It’s all your fault anyway,” she teases. He gives her a side eye look and she continues, “Well, yeah, if you hadn’t been so fucking,” she pauses a beat, “so fucking…,” she tries to find a word but only thinks of ‘wonderful’ which breaks her heart. She sighs but doesn’t finish her thought. 

Softly, he whispers, “Love,” and opens his arms to her. She pushes to him and wraps her arms and legs around him, hands in his hair, mouth immediately open for him. They kiss for an eternity and she forces her mind not to be sad. Each time she thinks, “this is it, the last time,” she pushes it to the back of her mind and concentrates on the taste of his tongue, the feel of his stubble, the softness of his hair, the smoothness of his chest, the strength of his back, and how he strokes her cheeks with his thumbs. She finally allows herself to be lost in it. 

He kisses her neck then sucks on her collarbone, and each time he moves he whispers her name and “Love.” She throws her head back as he makes his way down to her tits, sucking and lapping, while he pulls her in close. The water begins to slosh out of the tub as she scoots further onto his lap, tightening her long legs wrapped around his waist. She can feel him getting hard and she circles her hips to entice him further. She puts her hands in his hair and nibbles on his earlobe then sucks on his neck, as he runs his hands down her back then squeezes her arse. He pushes her forward, dragging her over his cock. “Love,” he whispers in her ear and she moans his name. 

He places his hands under her arms and lifts her slightly, pulling her back into a kiss and spilling water all over the floor. “I need,” he whispers. She reaches down for his cock with one hand, leaving the other on the back of his neck and he lifts her again. They look into each other’s eyes and she slowly guides his cock into her. He pushes her hair back with both of his wet hands and just stares intently into her eyes for a moment. “I love you,” he says. She teases his bottom lip with her teeth then begins moving her hips. As they kiss, the water moves around them, spilling onto the floor, splashing them everywhere. She can’t get leverage, so she quickly twists her upper body and reaches for the plug, pulling it out and turning back to him immediately. 

Returning to him, they kiss again, tongues tangled together, hands in each other’s hair, moaning and breathing hard. With the water receding, she lifts her hips and pulls her legs back underneath her, straddling him for better leverage. When done, she slowly eases down on his cock, her arms resting on his shoulders as she looks in his eyes. He smiles and sighs as she slowly lifts herself up and down, thrusting and bucking her hips. He lets out a litany of blasphemy and she smiles, loving what she’s doing to him. She shivers now that the water is almost gone, so he slides his arms up her back and pulls her chest close as she continues to drive onto him. 

He sneaks one hand between them and gently tugs at her nipple then slides down to her pussy, expertly finding and circling her clit with his fingers. A few moments of pressure there is all she needs, she slams down on him, one, two, three more times practically shouting “fuck” each time. When he leans into her ear quickly to whisper her name, she comes, yelling his name. He smiles, dropping his head back as he feels her cunt tighten and quiver around him. She licks his neck as she watches him come. 

After they dry off, she walks out to the pile of mail and grabs the tickets while he gets dressed. When she returns, he’s pulling on his trousers but still shirtless. She offers him some of her water then hands him the envelope. She says, “Before you go,” as he says, “What’s this?”

She shrugs and sits on the bed. He turns to face her and begins opening it. “I saw these and, well, uh, Merry Christmas?” she says questioningly. He pulls the tickets out and smiles, but then realization hits him. “We were going to...go...together?” he asks, tears suddenly in his eyes. She nods. “Thank you,” he says quietly, then leans over to kiss her forehead.

“I want you to go,” she says. “By yourself...take Pam...I don’t care,” she adds with a shrug. He smiles and sets the tickets on her nightstand. He rubs a hand down his face and she can see he’s crying. He turns back to her and asks, “What am I going to do without you?” Again she shrugs. Again she thinks, “pick me,” but only fleetingly. He seems to have made his choice and she’s made hers. 

As he picks up his shirt and puts it over his head, he says, “So, how do we do this? I guess I can’t come to the cafe?” She shakes her head then adds, “And I can’t come to the church.” He sighs and she pulls her legs under her, stretching her t-shirt over them. She smiles and waits till he meets her eyes, then whispers, “It’ll pass.” He chuckles and shakes his head.

He turns away from her, looking for the rest of his clothes as she watches. Suddenly, he turns around and lunges at her, grabbing her face with his hands and pushing her down on the bed, his full weight on top of her. Kissing her, he runs his hands under her shirt, telling her again he loves her. She kisses him back, wondering if he’s going to pick her, exclaiming her love for him. They make love again, looking into each other's eyes and whispering their love. After, they fall asleep wrapped together tightly. She tries to stay awake, hoping he’ll change his mind, but he remains quiet.

When she wakes in the morning, he’s gone. The tickets and his key to her flat are left on her nightstand. She rolls over and lets the tears fall.


	19. Epilogue (The Call)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if the last chapter was so sad!!! Thanks for sticking with me. Here are the last 2 chapters. Enjoy!!!

She throws herself into work, exercise, and therapy. She accepts any distraction from friends, no matter how much she just wants to stay at home. 

About two weeks after their “break up,” he texts her late at night saying “I miss you.” She sees it immediately and hopes that he’s changed his mind. She texts back, “I miss you too.” She sees three little bubbles pop up as he’s typing, but nothing ever comes. Eventually, she falls asleep with her phone in her hand. But when she wakes early in the morning, she’s devastated to see that he didn’t text again. 

During Christmas, she gets drunk at Dad’s and almost texts him. Somehow she controls herself and gives her phone to Claire for safe-keeping. She tells Claire not to give it back until she’s sober. In the morning, with a clearer head, she writes his number down and hides it in a drawer. Then she deletes it from her phone. 

After Christmas, she adopts a cat, Henry, and gives the Brene Brown tickets to Sarah and Neithy.

A month later, at a particularly low point, she opens a bottle of wine then re-opens her Tinder account. She spends the night alternating between there and pet adoption sites, considering quick dates or adopting another cat. She eventually decides to distract herself with a wank and puts herself to bed, snuggling up to Henry. In the morning, she closes her Tinder account and briefly considers eharmony and match.com, trying to determine if she’s ready. But she’s saved by a call from Tina and Bill with a business offer.

Tina and Bill offer her a space upstairs from the bookshop for subletting. They think her cafe and their bookstore could increase traffic for both businesses, with a shared space. She rushes over to visit and falls in love. It needs work, but she is more than happy to dive right into the distraction. She meets with Belinda and her bank manager separately, getting ideas on managing two locations. She meets with Alice, the accountant from the women’s business group, once her loan comes through and she starts pulling everything together for a summer opening.

In May, she goes back to Finland for her sister’s wedding to Klare, a small and simple affair. She spends the night before the wedding with Claire, watching with glee as her sister agonizes and over-thinks every minute detail of the wedding. Finally, she manages to calm her down with some wine and stories of their mum. In the morning, as they’re both getting ready, Claire asks how she is. She excitedly updates Claire on the construction for the bookstore cafe location. Claire stops applying her makeup and meets her eyes in the mirror, then asks how she’s REALLY doing. She just shrugs and says she’s ok. After the wedding, she shags one of Klare’s friends, but sneaks out of his room in the middle of the night.

Home from the wedding, she visits the new location where construction is almost complete. She starts hiring new employees and promotes Meg to manage the new location. 

************************************

On a warm Tuesday in June, she’s working at the original cafe as Meg trains new employees at the bookstore location. Opening is planned for two weeks, but they want the new help to start at the original location right away. Then, she can finish decorating at the bookstore location, along with lots of other last minute details. After closing, she sees a missed call from an unknown number and doesn’t think much of it. She locks up the cafe and rushes over to the bookstore location to make sure the painter is finished. 

Finally at home later that evening, she gets a call from that same number and, again, she doesn’t answer. A few seconds later, she sees a text from Unknown - “It’s me, please pick up.” She rushes to the drawer that she hid his number in all those months ago. Hurriedly, she scoops all the tat out of it, dumping it on the floor. Of course, she can’t find the piece of paper with his number. Her phone rings again. She plops on the floor, amongst all the debris from the emptied drawer and stares at her phone. Everything tells her that it’s him - her Priest.

“Hello?” she answers. “Hi,” he says. She looks at her phone again and slaps a hand against her forehead, completely shocked. “Hi,” she says.

“Don’t hang up, please,” he starts. “I know it’s been ages, but, but, something’s happened and, I, erm, just….wanted to talk to you,” he says. She pictures him ill, in hospital and she worries, knowing immediately that she will go to him if he needs. “You ok?” she asks incredulously.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, fine. I’m ok. I, eh, just wanted, er, needed to talk to you.” Then, almost to himself, he says, “Jesus, this would be so much easier in person.” She waits, confused. His Irish lilt is more pronounced, like he sounds when he’s drunk, but he doesn’t seem drunk to her. She waits.

She hears him take a deep breath and he rushes out, “I left the church, er, I’m leaving the church. Erm. Yeah. I just can’t...anymore...and, I, eh, I miss you.” She hears him shake his head and take another breath, then he says, “Please tell me I’m not too late.”

She covers her mouth with her hand and takes a deep breath. She’s elated but confused, what the hell is going on? He says her name questioningly. “Am I? Am I too late?” he asks. She feels tears in her eyes but she can’t form words. She wants to say no - No, it’s not too late, get your ass over here now, but she doesn’t trust it.

Finally, she manages to murmur, “I don’t understand, what’s going on? What happened? It’s, it’s been forever,” she does the quick math in her head and adds, “seven months. I don’t...I, I’m confused.” She stands and starts pacing, stepping all over the bits she’s just dumped on the floor.

“Erm, ok, I’ll, eh, I’ll start at the beginning,” he says. “Well, after we, eh, ended things, I don’t know, I guess, er, I just tried to go back to the way things were.” He tells her how he threw himself into his work, helping Pam around the church, more home visits, more meetings, helping other parishes with anything they needed, volunteering at shelters. “I was, once again, trying to bury my feelings. Around Lent, erm, I went on a bender and, er, I yelled at Pam over absolutely nothing. I felt like such shit. Remember that Priest that I told you about - that, eh, I went to when we, eh...got back together? The first time,” he adds. “Uh-huh,” she answers. “Well, I went to confession and, well, er, anyway,” he pauses for several moments. She wonders if he’s reliving his confession. Finally, he says, “he helped me.” He tells her about meeting with this Priest weekly to talk through everything that was bothering him about his parents, the church, his relationship with her.

She sighs and sits down on her bed, starting to cry as she listens to all the pain he was in, just like she has been. “Well, I think, er, I think I knew I was going to leave...maybe even when I first met you. But, I was, just denying it, afraid to choose...afraid what would happen,” he says. After a moment, he continues, “Anyway, about two months ago, I, eh, took a leave of absence...from the church,” he continues. She lays back on her bed, her thoughts a jumble. “When...er, why,” she begins to say. 

He cuts her off. “I’m in Ireland,” he says. “My mum, she broke her leg, just as I was about to start my leave. I was gonna...I was coming to you, I promise. But, Mum doesn’t have anyone and she...she was trying to do it herself. But Father Peter, remember how I told you about him? He called me. And, and, I’ve been here ever since.”

She says nothing, just lies on her bed, listening to him breathe, trying to figure out how she feels as her tears fall. Finally, she takes a deep breath, picturing her Priest, allowing herself to believe that maybe he’s finally ready. That he’s hers.

He continues, “I, erm, I even got a job. A real job, not in the church, hah,” he pauses with a chuckle. Then adds, “My leave is permanent. I’m not going back to...to the Priesthood. One of the shelters that I had been volunteering at needs a director for the half-way houses they run. And, and I can even stay there till I find a place.” He sighs deeply and waits several seconds. She is still processing all of it, trying to accept the good news. Finally, he says, “I know it’s been a long time, but, but, I love you and I...I miss you. I hope, well, even if you’ve moved on...” He sighs again, but she remains silent. “So,” he says, “am I too late?” She shakes her head and tries to think of a cheeky answer. “I am, aren’t I?” he rushes out. “Fuck,” he says quietly. Finally she pulls herself together and says, “No, no, you’re not too late. No. When,” she pauses to sniffle, “when are you coming back?”

“As soon as I can,” he answers with a smile. “Tomorrow even, I can’t wait...to get back to you,” he says.


	20. Epilogue Part 2 (Reunion)

Friday morning she wakes with anxiety - she’s finally going to see her Priest - well, former Priest, today. She isn’t sure what to expect since they’ve been apart for seven months. Since his call, she’s spent very little time daydreaming about their reunion. She’s worked 16 hour days trying to get the bookstore location ready, or as ready as possible, so she can have some downtime this weekend. She’s hoping not to leave the flat, or her bed, once he arrives. And, there it is, that one little thought leads to a daydream of him back in her arms, back in her bed. She can’t help it, she has a quick wank before getting up and getting ready for the day. 

She rushes to the store for supplies for the weekend then stops at the cafe to go over a few things with Meg. Not the best time to leave her alone for a day (or maybe two), but at least two of the trainees are scheduled and they seem to be settling in nicely. If she’s needed, she can get there in a flash. As she wraps up details on the day’s expected delivery, Meg asks, “So, Boss, must be a pretty big deal for you to need off right now? Everything ok?” She smiles at Meg. She really relies on her and they’ve become very friendly, but she’s not ready to say anything yet. “OK, fine, don’t tell me,” Meg teases, “but I can tell from that smile, it’s gonna be good.” 

She rushes over to the bookstore location and checks in on everything. Construction and paint are complete. Chairs, most of them great market finds, are set. Tables are to arrive on Monday, along with a few appliances. She got a lot done the last few days and surveys it with pride when Tina comes up the steps. “It looks great,” Tina says. “It’s gonna be fantastic. Bill and I are so excited.” She thanks Tina for the opportunity and echoes her excitement then let’s her know that she’s going to enjoy some downtime this weekend but she should call if anything comes up. “Everything should be in place for everyone next Friday,” she tells Tina regarding their small event for Sita, Alice, Sarah and Neithy and of course, Belinda and her bank manager friend. And, hopefully, her Priest - her former Priest - this is taking some getting used to - she thinks with a shake of her head.

*********************************

Once everything is put away at home, she cleans up all around the flat, putting things away that don’t even have a proper place because she is never this organized. She recognizes her nervous energy but, her normal calming process - a sip or two of bourbon, is not what she wants today. On the call Tuesday night, he told her about how he hasn’t had a drink since he’s been in Ireland and how’d he’d like to continue with AA. When he learned how drunk his mum was when she injured herself and saw the state she was in, they both began going to meetings together. He told her how he’s worried that his mum will slip up once he’s gone, so he’s planning regular visits to her, along with Father Peter’s help when he can’t be there. 

She also told him about her new cat Henry and the new location for the cafe. She can’t wait to take him, maybe Sunday when the bookstore is closed, and show off her hard work. She didn’t tell him about the theme for this cafe and she can’t wait to see his reaction when he sees all the foxes. Dad dropped by some old paintings of her mom’s a few weeks ago when Godmother was purging and it included a collection of animal paintings - including a hamster that she hung up in the original cafe - and a beautiful orange and black fox that was her inspiration for the theme. She had thanked her mum’s statue for the gifts, grateful for daily reminders of Boo and her Priest. 

When the buzzer goes shortly after 1, she’s resorted to pacing her flat. She stops and takes a deep breath, taking one last look over her flat and nervously rubbing her hands down her legs. She blows out her breath as she reaches the door then opens it to her Priest...no, her Love. There he is, standing on the stoop with a duffle bag over his shoulder. His hair is longer and she can tell he’s nervous too because he’s running both his hands through it and looking down at his trainers, shuffling side to side. He looks up and smiles shyly then sighs her name.   
It’s him, she thinks. Finally. And she can’t help but rush into his arms and hold him so tight, breathing in his scent, rubbing the hair on the back of his head. They hold each other right there on the stoop, her grazing his back and neck, and he just sighs into her neck, pecking her with little kisses. When he pulls back to look in her eyes, she starts to ask, “Should we go inside,” but he stops her with his mouth on hers, not afraid who might see them. 

The kiss is tender but passionate, just like before but with months of missing and waiting spurring it. He drops his bag on the sidewalk and holds her face, deepening the kiss. She pulls him in tight to her body, barely breathing. She feels like she’s soaring, right off the height of the roller coaster and into the air. 

When they pause, they are both panting. He takes her face and whispers, “God, I missed you,” and they both smile. She takes his hand, he reaches for his bag and they go inside. Once the door is closed behind them, she turns to him and says shyly, “Hi,” then looks down to grab his other hand and adds, “I missed you too.” He pulls their hands up to his chest and says, “I’m sorry it took me so long.” She laughs nervously. “But I’m here now, and, erm, as long as you’ll have me.” He kisses her knuckles, then sighs, “Love.” He looks in her eyes and adds, “I didn’t know what to do without you.” She smiles and shrugs, “Well, if you play your cards right, hopefully you never have to figure it out.” He chuckles and pulls her into another embrace.

After a few moments, they walk into the family room and she asks if he’d like any water or anything to eat. He shakes his head and answers, “no, I just wanna...I missed you.” He pulls her to the couch and he sits down and places her on his lap, they wrap their arms around each other. She again rubs the back of his neck, while he rubs her back. “You smell the same,” he whispers. She laughs, “so do you.” She leans her face back a little to look at him and says, “Your hair is longer,” as she runs a hand through it. He shrugs. “I like it,” she whispers. 

Henry peeks out from the bedroom and he looks around her shoulder to whisper to the cat. “Oh, Henry,” she says. “He probably won’t come to you just yet, but give him some time. He just needs to get to know you.” He nods then looks back at her, putting a hand at the back of her head. “Thank you,” he whispers, looking in her eyes. “For what,” she asks, confused. “For answering my call, for letting me come, for saying it wasn’t too late, erm...just for being you.” She shakes her head then kisses his forehead. She whispers, “And thank you.” He looks at her questioningly and she adds, “for being you... and for coming back.”

They look in each other’s eyes, he strokes her cheek with his hand. She eyes his lips then brushes her thumb over his bottom lip. He pulls her face gently to his and they kiss tenderly, briefly, then they pull away to gaze at each other again. When he whispers, “Love,” to her, she can’t hold back any longer. She grabs his face and smashes her lips against his, he pushes his hands into her hair. They rush to open their mouths, their tongues entangled, their hearts racing with the intensity. After a few moments of breathless frenzy, she licks, nibbles and sucks on his neck as she lifts up off his lap to kick a leg around and straddle him. Once she does, she can feel how hard he already is. She yanks on the bottom of his t-shirt, shoving her hands under and feeling his smooth skin while he nibbles on her collarbone and works his hands up the back of her shirt. She bucks her hips over his and leans her head back to look at him as she does. His eyes are a storm of lust and he growls at her. She tips her face back to his to tease and bite his lower lip then rips his shirt over his head. He smiles and whispers her name, so she jerks her hips again. He puts his hands on her arms and holds her back, so she can’t tease him again. He gives her a sexy smile and says, “Nothing’s changed, has it?” She leans forward and nibbles on his earlobe, then whispers, “Nothing’s changed and everything’s changed, Love.” 

He stands, easily lifting and carrying her, then walks to the bedroom as she holds his head in her hands and kisses him again on the mouth. When he reaches the bed, he practically throws her down onto the mattress. She laughs and scrambles backwards a little to look at him. She licks her lips as she takes in his smooth chest, strong shoulders, taut abs. She bites her lip and nods to him, indicating he should take off his trousers. He flirtatiously smiles at her and starts to slowly undo his belt. She watches for another a few seconds before she crawls back over to him, kneeling on the mattress in front of him, replacing his hands with hers to deftly remove his belt and trousers. He kisses her as he toes out of his shoes, then yanks her t-shirt over her head. He sucks on her neck and whispers her name as he skims his fingers down her shoulders, taking the straps of her bralette with him. She pushes his jeans down enough so she can reach his cock as she nibbles on his shoulder.

He takes her tits in his hands, rolling her nipples to hard points as she moans. He pulls his mouth away from her neck and steps back to watch her reaction as he does this. “Fuck, I missed you,” he says. She cups his balls and smiles at him provocatively. “Fuck is right,” she teases.

He grabs her shoulders to push her back on the bed and in one swift movement removes her bralette and skirt. She lays back and bites her lip as he drops her clothes to the floor, then she gestures with one finger for him to completely remove his jeans. He does so, then hooks two fingers on her hips and tears her pants off. 

She sighs as she looks at him, standing over her at the edge of the bed. She’s barely able to contain herself, practically writhing on the bed for him. He puts his knees on the bed and slowly rubs his hand over his cock. She sits up on her elbows, watching, waiting. She says his name and he crawls to her, slowly nudging her legs apart as he inches up the bed, staring at her with desire. When he’s half-way up her body, he leans down and kisses her stomach and nibbles her hip. She struggles as she feels him, wanting him so badly, bucking her hips. He kisses the top of her mound and then gently strokes her folds. She cries out from his touch and wiggles her hips again. When he places three fingers inside her tight, wet pussy, she moans and lies back on the bed, panting. He nudges his mouth to her clit to lap at it as he begins rocking his fingers in and out of her. She plays with his hair and watches as he does this for several seconds, living for the feeling of his mouth and hands. At last, he sucks hard on her clit and she screams, jerking her hips and begging for his cock. He looks at her and kisses his way to her mouth, stopping briefly to lap and suck on each tit. When he reaches her mouth, she grabs his face and kisses him fiercely. She reaches for his cock, guiding him inside her. “Oh god,” he says. “Oh fuck,” she says. They look at each other, frozen for a small moment. He whispers, “I love you.” She smiles, then bites his bottom lip. “I love you, too,” she says. “Now fuck me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just had to end with some smut for all the LSS hornbags out there (you know who you are)!!!!


End file.
